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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26469154">Well-Connected Rebel Sympathizers</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaughingStones/pseuds/LaughingStones'>LaughingStones</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Rich Merrill, Deluxe edition [7]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>After the Storm - Hannah Birchwood &amp; Key Dyson &amp; Raymond Roach, Motorcity (Cartoon)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Aphrodisiacs, Deluxe is not, Explicit Consent, Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Multi, Non-consensual Medical Procedures, Rescue, Sexual Slavery, The PRT Remix, induced amnesia, or: the Sad Bootyshorts Return!, the techies are mostly decent</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 08:53:32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>38,004</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26469154</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaughingStones/pseuds/LaughingStones</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Instead of sending a crew of friendly ladies to entertain Rich and his fellow techs for the evening, KaneCo sent a time-bomb by the name of Mike Chilton. As dangerous as he looks, Chilton’s in bad shape, and Rich is the only guy brave--or stupid--enough to take on the responsibility of looking after him. Except for Chuck, which is even worse, because he’s recovering from a memory wipe, and Chilton’s gonna hurt him if he’s not careful.</p><p>If Rich has to sit in on their hot, touching... <i>reunion</i> to make sure they both stay okay, that’s just what he’ll have to do.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Mike Chilton/Chuck, Mike Chilton/Chuck/Rich Merrill</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Rich Merrill, Deluxe edition [7]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1635523</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>35</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Rich's cubicle is on the side of the row nearest the door, and <em>mysteriously</em>, Anton has come over from <em>his</em> side to hang out while they're all waiting for the girls to arrive. It's pointless, since it doesn't matter how close you are when they get there, everyone's gonna get somebody, but then again Rich is leaning in his cubicle entrance pretending not to be watching the door, so he doesn't have room to talk.</p><p>It's reasonable to be eager, anyway, it's not every week the programming department slams so far past quota that the higher-ups reward them with a department-wide assignment of physical relief technicians. Hell, it's not every <em>month</em>. Rich is perfectly happy trading a helping hand with Anton or Chuck or someone when he gets too wound up, but he's dying to spend some quality time with a woman for once. It's not like a tech ever has time to date, even if Rich knew how to meet someone outside of Research and Development.</p><p>Anyway, Nate and Miguel are standing outside Nate's cubicle, chatting desultorily and not even pretending to not be waiting impatiently for the party to start. At least Rich and Anton aren't being <em>that</em> obvious.</p><p>The door opens, and Rich forgets what he was in the middle of saying, perking up along with everyone else. Instead of a whole crowd of cute, smiling ladies, though, a single guy steps through the door, followed by an armed and armored Elite, who glances around and tosses something small at Nate, who barely catches it.</p><p>“Uh! Sir?” Nate says cautiously.</p><p>The Elite acts like he didn't even say anything, just turns and leaves.</p><p>Rich stares at the guy left standing there. He's... weird. Broad-shouldered and built along trim, athletic lines, he's reasonably tall, if not as tall as Rich, and wearing the physical relief technician uniform of tiny shorts and an even tinier vest, except he’s barefoot and short-haired like a prisoner... and scarred like a gladiator. Granted, gladiators are also officially PRTs, but a way smaller branch than the normal intimate masseuse variety, and there’s no reason some executive’s personal whipping boy would show up here.</p><p>Like every male “masseuse” Rich has seen before, this guy has shown up significantly primed for action, down there, and the shorts make the whole situation <em>really </em>nice to look at. Difficult <em>not </em>to look at. But then, unlike one of them, he's tense and unsmiling, jaw set as he looks around at the gathered techs: the flush across his sharp cheekbones and the dark set to his eyes just makes him look more dangerous. </p><p>From the way he's holding himself, it looks like the lean muscle in his arms and everywhere else is a lot less purely decorative than Rich’s, for example, and the scars all over that olive skin speak to a whole lot more time in combat than at the gym. He looks like he might go for someone's throat at the first wrong move. Even if he has to do it with his teeth, since his wrists are <em>cuffed behind his back</em>. Which, all things considered, Rich is pretty happy about.</p><p>Before any of them can get past the moment of stunned silence to say something, there's a quiet set of simultaneous <em>ping</em>s as message screens pop up in front of Rich and the others. It's a department-wide notice that says <em>The reward for exceeding quota has been reassigned to a Physical Relief Technician who will serve the department this evening. KaneCo values your hard work and dedication!</em></p><p>“Oh, what the <em>fuck!</em>” Miguel bursts out, as complaints and disgusted swearing rise from the rows of cubicles behind them.</p><p>“<em>One</em> PRT for the whole department?” Rich says. “That's nuts! I mean, I know girls are supposed to last longer, but that's pushing it a little far, right?”</p><p>“Dude,” Anton says, “they didn't send a girl.”</p><p>Rich stares at him. “Oh come on, <em>he's</em> not--I mean, she just hasn't gotten here yet… This guy’s some special order whipping boy for like... the Director...” He trails off as the guy’s lips tighten. “...What the fuck.”</p><p>“One of the execs must be messing with us,” Nate says, pulling up a screen and starting to type.</p><p>“Shit, that makes sense,” Miguel says in disgust. “Limit us to one PRT and then make it from the wrong branch.”</p><p>Another set of screens pops up with an internal memo this time, sent out by Travis. </p><p>
  <em>ok, we gotta set up a random drawing r smth 2 decide who gets a chance w the girl, since there's no way she can deal w all of us. n you guys camping by the door better not b keeping her for yourselves, hands off until the results come in!</em>
</p><p>A second later there's a reply from Pete. <em>Bjs are easier on a girl, less wear and tear, so I say ten bj slots and maybe two to fuck her.</em></p><p>Rich raises his eyebrows at that one. Sure, he's not a professional, but he's given a few blow jobs here and there, and he suspects most PRTs of the intimate massage type wouldn't be thrilled to have ten expected of them. He's wondering if he should shoot Pete a private response pointing out that he's being a dick, as usual, or reply and explain the actual situation, when another reply pops up from Ben.</p><p><em>you idiots haven't even thought about this, have you. you think this is a bitchy trick some exec is pulling on </em>us? <em>redirect some blood and use the right head for two seconds. that prt obviously pissed someone off, and they want us to scare her into line by mauling her like a pack of starving dogs. leave her the fuck alone, and if you boys by the door pester her there'll be hell to pay. i'll make sure of it.</em></p><p>Miguel snorts loudly and starts typing, and a second later his reply pops up. <em>Don't worry </em>Dad<em>, no means no unless it's her job on the line, in which case a polite smile and ‘Yes of course’ also mean no. But it's a moot point bc there's no girl, they sent us a fuckin gladiator, and he doesn't look happy. Unless someone wants a concussion on their secondary head, no one’s getting laid tonight.</em></p><p>There's another swell of swearing, both out loud and as completely pointless replies, and in the middle another one from Ben: <em>welp. just don't take it out on the poor fuck.</em> That seems to be the end of it.</p><p>Rich closes his screen and looks back at the PRT, who's eyeing them all looking suspicious and slightly puzzled.</p><p>Miguel suddenly snickers and aims a sly grin at Rich, who scowls preemptively. “Hey, as long as we've got a gladiator--”</p><p>“<em>Bullshit </em>that’s a gladiator,” Anton says. </p><p>“Sure he is, just look at him! He can be your sparring partner, Merrill, give us a match!”</p><p>“Cuz <em>that'd</em> be a fair fight,” Rich says, rolling his eyes. “Fuck off, Hernandez.” With all the guff he gets for being built like a cadet, sometimes he thinks he <em>should've</em> joined the Corps like everyone wanted him to. Except he's a lot happier being a tech, thanks, even if he's the dumbest person in the department.</p><p>“What,” says the PRT, startling everyone. He's looking at Rich, dark eyes narrow, and there's something familiar about his face when it's wearing that almost-snarl, but Rich can't put his finger on it. The more he looks at the guy, the more obvious it is he's dangerous--all those scars, and bruises freaking <em>everywhere</em>, which might make sense for an executive punching bag, but is unnerving when you’re face to face with one.</p><p>“You think you can take me cuz you're bigger?” the PRT says.</p><p>“Uh, <em>no</em>,” Rich says, annoyed. “From the look of you, you could probably wipe the floor with me, because I'm a <em>programmer</em>, not a fighter.”</p><p>The PRT blinks, taken aback, and eyes Rich with a puzzled wariness.</p><p>“Anyway, what's with the attitude?” Rich says, crossing his arms. “Fine, you’re a gladiator, but didn't you <em>accept</em> this assignment?” He nods down at where the guy’s clearly ready to do <em>something </em>with someone. It’s not a standard gladiator accessory, but Rich has heard some Directors get... weird. </p><p>Anton elbows him, shaking his head meaningfully, and Rich blinks down at him, not getting it. </p><p>“If he's a gladiator,” Anton points out, “why's he wearing cuffs?”</p><p>“Because Kane is a <em>jerk</em>,” the PRT snaps, and the amount of venom he packs into the laughably mild insult makes up for the lack of stronger language. The techs stare at him a minute, startled to hear a sentiment none of them would dare to openly voice in front of strangers. People get thrown in detention cells for failing to show the CEO of KaneCo proper respect.</p><p>“He's not,” Nate says absently, frowning at something on his screen, and looks up when Miguel snorts.</p><p>“So defensive of our great leader!” Miguel says, and Nate makes a disturbed face at him.</p><p>“What, no! I was talking about <em>him</em>,” Nate grumbles, nodding at the PRT. “He's not a gladiator, his face doesn't match any records in the personnel roster.”</p><p>“Are you serious?” Miguel says. “Come on, he <em>can't</em> be from the normal branch, look at him!” He waves a hand at the guy in illustration. </p><p>Rich frowns as that feeling of familiarity comes back stronger. He could swear he's seen this guy, he knows that face.</p><p>“No,” Nate says, “I mean I searched the whole PRT roster, both branches, the gladiators and the masseuses. He's not in there. Although I guess the face search might not be as good as--what's your name?” he asks the guy distractedly, still typing.</p><p>Rich is watching, sees the way the PRT’s lips tighten, then twist into a bitter half-smile.</p><p>“I'm Mike Chilton,” says the PRT.</p><p>The department's usual nighttime hum keeps going in the background, people talking, playing games or music, but here by the door, silence sweeps across the four listening techs like a corrosive gas. Rich is staring, instinctive denial running headlong into shock as he finally realizes where he recognizes that face from: illicit footage and wanted posters. The guy's missing the sharp teeth and the red gleam in his eyes from the posters, and his hair is different, but other than that the resemblance is clear.</p><p>“Shit,” Anton says. </p><p>Yeah, <em>shit</em>. This must be what suffocating feels like, shock melting into lung-clenching horror and shame, a toxic mess burning in Rich's gut. He just said <em>what's with the attitude</em> to Mike Chilton, former leader of the Burners, ex-rebel fighter and hero to anyone in Deluxe who pays attention to what's behind the propaganda. <em>Hey, you've been captured and imprisoned by your worst enemy for a month, what's with the attitude?!</em></p><p>Hell, no wonder the guy's in cuffs. It's not like Kane would miss that Chilton is an escape risk.</p><p>The day he was caught sucked, even aside from the aftermath of the climactic battle with the Burners and Kane's daughter. The techs had all thought Chilton was invincible, and then Kane broadcast the announcement of his capture across all of Deluxe. Half the department was grim and dejected for the next few days, and Rich was pissed off and sullen, furious at Kane and at Chilton for not being untouchable. He'd really needed to get drunk, and he was even more pissed that Ben wouldn't let up on Rich's alcohol restriction, the bastard. Then Chuck showed up out of the blue with his memory wiped, after three years gone, and everybody got distracted and moved on.</p><p>Rich assumed Chilton would be in a detention cell, though. That Kane’s using him as a whipping boy now, costume and all, and playing gross tricks like this on him--that's even worse. Insult to injury.</p><p>“Shit, man,” Rich says, “I'm sorry, seriously, I didn't, uh--guys, can we hack those cuffs, or what?”</p><p>“We don't have to,” Nate says faintly, eyes fixed on Chilton, who's looking startled, staring around at them. “His boots threw me the key.”</p><p>“My… boots?” Chilton says, looking down at his bare feet in bewilderment.</p><p>Miguel snorts. “The Elite. Security's got heavy clunky boots, good for kicking people.”</p><p>Rich is startled, because it's not general practice to go handing random outsiders a slang dictionary, and then he feels like an idiot. Mike Chilton isn't gonna go talking to the higher-ups, even if he is captured now.</p><p>Nate seems hypnotized, staring at Chilton with his hands frozen on his screen, so Rich goes over and says, “Key?”</p><p>Nate blinks at him, nods and fumbles in a pocket, hands the little chip over.</p><p>“You're not gonna hurt anybody, right?” Anton says suddenly to Chilton. “We didn't know. I should've realized first thing, I mean cuffs <em>couldn't</em> be standard, but it's not like I've ever seen a whipping b--uh, I mean a gladiator before, so--”</p><p>“Dude!” Rich says, annoyed. “Of course he's not gonna--what, beat you up because you were standing here? Come <em>on</em>, I'm the one who was being obnoxious!” He strides over to Chilton like he's completely confident of his reception, and isn’t sure how to feel about it when the guy goes still at his approach, flushed and dark-eyed and wary. Weirdly, some of those bruises look like they're from fingertips digging in. From getting hauled around while struggling, maybe.</p><p>Rich holds up the key, trying to look matter-of-fact instead of intimidated and unsettled, and when Chilton nods but doesn't move to turn around, Rich sidles around behind him. He has to search to find where the key is supposed to slot in, never having dealt with cuffs before. His fingers brush against one bruised wrist and Chilton <em>shivers</em>, which is distracting. Rich manages to get the key in, and though the cuffs stay on Chilton’s wrists, they come loose from each other, letting his arms swing forward at his sides with a faint pained noise from him.</p><p>When Rich steps away again, Chilton is rubbing one shoulder with the opposite hand and eyeing them all, looking way less hostile but still wary. The way he’s panting in fast shallow breaths and the glitter of sweat at his temples looks... bad, which throws a nasty new light on why he's hard when he's obviously not interested in that action right now. Rich doesn’t want to think about that, or check the inside of his arms for track marks, nope, he’s fine, everything’s fine, they’re just. Gonna all be <em>fine</em>.</p><p>Except Nate's still busy looking stunned, Anton has his arms wrapped around himself and is chewing on his lip, and Miguel is staring darkly at Chilton but not saying anything. Rich is not generally the guy in charge, or anyone's choice of spokesman. He's not sure how they ended up here.</p><p>“Um,” he says. “You… want a drink? Of <em>water</em>, dickhead, shut up,” he adds when Miguel raises eyebrows at him.</p><p>“There's another option?” Chilton says cautiously, glancing around at the others.</p><p>“Break room, I think,” Miguel says cryptically, and Rich nods along with Anton and Nate. Best to move this discussion away from the door, just for safety's sake.</p><p>Miguel starts off and Rich turns to follow, pauses to glance back at Chilton, who hasn't moved. “You coming, man?”</p><p>“Why?” Chilton says.</p><p>“Beverages of various types can be found there,” Miguel says drily over his shoulder, “along with snacks. Which we generally don't share with outsiders, but eh, exceptions.” He shrugs and keeps walking, Anton and Nate following.</p><p>Chilton hesitates, chewing on his lip.</p><p>“Hey,” Rich says in a lower voice, and moves within a couple of steps of Chilton. “Um. You know we're not gonna, like, try anything, right? I mean, that's not even your job, <em>this</em> isn't even your job, I mean, <em>cuffs</em>. Plus, we wouldn't dare, you'd probably take down all four of us before we could blink. Not that that's why we wouldn't try it! That'd be messed up, with the cuffs and shit--um,” Rich finally manages to stop himself digging the hole any deeper, turning haplessly to see that the other three are out of sight already. “No one leaves me to do the talking,” he mumbles, scrubbing a hand through his shaggy hair. “It's a terrible idea.”</p><p>Chilton snorts softly. “Fine, you've convinced me,” he says, giving Rich a sliver of a smile. “Let's go.”</p><p>“Cool,” Rick says in relief, and sets off, Chiton half a step behind. It's weird, walking close enough to realize Rich has four inches of height and a considerable amount of muscle and shoulder-width on the guy. Chilton's not <em>small</em>, he just looks that way next to Rich. It's not unusual! Most people look small next to him. He just didn't expect Mike Chilton to be one of them. Chilton’s always seemed so much larger-than-life.</p><p>It's also weird ignoring the state the guy's in. Rich is not mentally set up to handle close proximity to a turned on (likely drugged) Mike Chilton, so he deals with it like he did being on sick leave: by avoiding thinking about the whole topic.</p><p>“So,” Chilton says. “I didn't get your name.”</p><p>“Oh, right!” Rich says, startled. Introductions hadn't previously occurred to him, but obviously a famous rebel leader doesn't want to spend the whole night going 'Hey you’ any more than anyone else would. “Richard Merrill--Rich.”</p><p>“Merrill,” Chilton murmurs, nodding, and this time Rich catches his eyes flicking up to Rich's hair and groans.</p><p>“Yeah, Merrill, not <em>Kane</em>, okay, just because I'm a redhead doesn't mean I'm related!”</p><p>“You're also built like an Ultra-Golem, like him,” Chilton points out mildly. “The hair just helps.”</p><p>Rich sighs. “Yeah, I know. We think there was some gene-modding somewhere back in my mom's family line, my sisters are built like me but my dad sure isn't. My mom had the hair too.” And then, fortunately, they're at the break room door before Rich has to answer any more questions or decide if he meant to say <em>had</em> or <em>has</em>. She's probably fine, after all, wherever she is down on the ground floor. He doesn't know, he hasn't seen her since he was like two.</p><p>The break room is empty aside from Miguel, Nate and Anton, which is lucky, since Clive has been spending a lot of time hiding in here and it's generally a good idea to keep outsiders away from guys on fresh sick leave. Outsiders don't understand the importance of watching what they say, so they're not safe for guys like Clive and Chuck to be around. If Mike Chilton triggered Clive's brain burn by mistake, Rich would… well, probably feel guilty, actually, because it's not like Chilton would know any better, and you can't expect someone on sick leave to keep themselves safe without plenty of help.</p><p>Rich walks in expecting the others to already have drinks and snacks out, but instead Miguel has his arms crossed grimly, staring at him and Chilton as they come through the door. Nate is over on the sofa, buried in his screen and ignoring the rest of the room, and Anton is looking sulkily away from Miguel like he lost whatever argument just happened.</p><p>“Problem,” Miguel says to Chilton, and the guy goes taut, face closed and wary all over again. “We can't talk freely to you, because if Kane's using you as his whipping boy--I bet he's gonna be asking you questions after this. He's gonna use you to get an inside view here, find out if we're loyal or not--”</p><p>“Dude!” Rich breaks in. “Are you <em>serious?</em> You think Mike Chilton's gonna answer his questions? Come <em>on!</em>”</p><p>“You think he's gonna stand up to torture for <em>us?</em>” Miguel snaps back. “He doesn't even know us!” </p><p>Rich blinks and glances at Chilton, wincing a second. He hadn't fully registered it, but--yeah, all those bruises; Chilton being in Kane's hands does pretty much amount to torture.</p><p>“Yeah,” Rich says defiantly anyway. “It's not like he knows everyone on the ground floor, but he still fights for them every day! You think he's gonna start cooperating with Kane <em>now?</em>”</p><p>“'The ground floor’?” Chilton mutters underneath the argument.</p><p>“Yeah, I do!” Miguel snaps. “Anyone can break under torture--”</p><p>“Guys!” Chilton cuts in. “Chill, geez. He's not asking me questions, okay? You don't have to worry, even if I would tell him stuff, which I won't.” He shrugs one shoulder. “He expected this to go, uh, real different.”</p><p>“Oh, <em>wow</em>,” Anton says. Rich sees Nate looking Mike up and down, lingering on the whole... shorts situation... and glares at him till Nate hastily looks back at his screen, shoulders hunching.</p><p>“Seriously?” Miguel says, screwing his face up. “He thought we'd go for <em>that!?</em>”</p><p>Chilton shrugs both shoulders this time, a slight lift and drop. “His execs did,” he says without expression. </p><p>Rich thinks at first he means Kane's executives thought the programming department would happily gangbang a guy in cuffs just because he showed up with a boner, and then he sees the shock and horror break over Anton’s face, the way Miguel rubs a hand over his brow. Chilton means the execs… <em>did</em> that.</p><p>“Oh my god,” Rich says numbly. “Oh my fucking god, man, that's--<em>shit</em>. I'm so sorry.”</p><p>Chilton frowns up at him, dark eyes startled. His shoulder twitches up and he opens his mouth, closes it again. Doesn't say anything, just nods acknowledgement after a minute.</p><p>“Fuck,” Miguel says, and turns to the fridge. “Sounds like you need a drink, dude.”</p><p>Rich scowls at his back. “He's not the only one,” he says, and Miguel predictably ignores him.</p><p>“Wait,” Chilton says, “you mean, alcohol?”</p><p>Miguel snorts. “Yeah I mean alcohol, you want hard cider or something stronger?”</p><p>“No,” Chilton says. “Thanks! But uh. Can I just have some water or something?”</p><p>Rich blinks at him. “You don't drink?” He’d have thought tough cool dudes from the ground floor drank like, all the time. </p><p>Chilton gives him a sidelong look Rich can't read. “Not really feeling it right now,” he says. “Feel free, though.”</p><p>“Oh, I'd <em>love</em> to!” Rich grumbles, glaring as Miguel gets out several bottles from the lockbox in the fridge that no one will give Rich the combination to.</p><p>“You can't--are you too young?” Chilton asks.</p><p>“No! I'm twenty-one!” Rich says as Miguel hands the bottles around. Anton gets a hard cider, Nate a beer, Miguel keeps a beer for himself and hands over two berry drinks, which Rich will grudgingly admit are delicious, except that he wants a <em>real</em> drink. “They just won't <em>let</em> me,” he finishes as Chilton takes the other berry drink with wide eyes, staring at the obviously non-Deluxian label.</p><p>“Because if you start drinking, you don't stop,” Miguel says, lifting his eyebrows.</p><p>“I do too,” Rich says.</p><p>“Dude,” Anton says tiredly, “no you didn't.”</p><p>“It's not like it's a moral flaw,” Nate says unexpectedly from the sofa, without looking up from his screen. “When an addiction forms that fast, it's due to brain chemistry, not a lack of willpower or something. There's some evidence to suggest that people with your gene-set are particularly susceptible to--”</p><p>“Great!” Rich says loudly. His face is going to burn off. He's not sure if he's more pissed that they're still on him about this stuff or humiliated that they're discussing his issues in front of Mike fucking Chilton. “So <em>anyway</em>--are you hungry?” he asks Chilton.</p><p>“Yeah, I could eat,” Chilton says, opening his drink. Something in his expression and the tone of his voice makes Rich wonder what the chances are that means<em> starving</em>. He hopes he's misinterpreting.</p><p>“That, we can fix,” Miguel says, and pulls some stuff out of the fridge, handing it over to Rich, who sets it on the table in front of Chilton and waves at a chair.</p><p>“Have a seat, man, dig in.”</p><p>Chilton blinks at the packages of food, which are all illegal, smuggled up from the ground floor and probably a nice reminder of home to him. He looks from Rich to Miguel. “How--you guys eat Motorci--”</p><p>“Ground floor,” Miguel cuts in.</p><p>“--Ground floor food?” Chilton corrects, pulling out a chair. He sits down carefully, shifting a little--man, those shorts can't be comfortable--and takes another drink of berry stuff. Rich realizes a minute late that Chilton's sitting at the right angle to keep an eye on the four techs and the door at the same time. The mistrust is discouraging, even if Rich guesses it's understandable.</p><p>“Yeah. Heck of a lot tastier than throat cubes,” Miguel says.</p><p>“I'm definitely not arguing that,” Chilton says, making a face, “just--how?”</p><p>“We have our ways,” Anton says, looking at Miguel. Rich looks at Miguel too, and Miguel looks uncertain.</p><p>“We have contacts,” Rich says after a minute, and Miguel shrugs.</p><p>“<em>Awesome</em>,” Chilton says. He unwraps a bread-bun thing and tears into it with a satisfied groan that makes Rich grin.</p><p>“How many more of those we got?” Anton says, taking a step towards the fridge.</p><p>“Not enough for you to have a second one,” Miguel says pleasantly, blocking his path.</p><p>“The fuck are you, guardian of the fridge?” Anton grumbles.</p><p>“Yeah, and your charisma isn't near high enough to make a successful Persuasion roll, either,” Miguel agrees.</p><p>Rich snorts, doubting he'll have any more luck. “Throw me a flavor cube--there any red left?”</p><p>“I don't know why you all like the red so much,” Miguel says, turning to poke through the boxes that are actual throat cubes instead of just disguised as them. “The green ones are best.”</p><p>“Says you,” Rich retorts, catching the box Miguel tosses. He drinks the berry stuff and munches on red flavor cubes, which aren't as interesting as the stuff from the ground floor, but it's food, which is the important part.</p><p>“So, um,” Anton says nervously as the silence stretches out. “You, uh, you catch the latest episode of Pod 360?”</p><p>Chilton doesn't realize at first that Anton's talking to him. He looks up, swallows his mouthful and hesitates, eyes on Anton, who looks like he wants to sink into the floor now. Sensible of him. Too bad he didn't think for two seconds before opening his mouth.</p><p>“Can't say I did,” Chilton says, and takes a long drink before finishing the last bite of the bun thing. He's still flushed and sweating, and Rich hopes he's just hot.</p><p>“Not like he gets a lot of free time,” Rich says, shooting Anton a look. “Between what, the first and second beating of the day, you think?”</p><p>“Shut up,” Anton mumbles, shoulders around his ears, and swigs his cider.</p><p>“It's not… exactly like that,” Chilton says to the table, opening a container of little balls Rich thinks are called dumplings.</p><p>It's kind of a weird thing to say? Rich was being facetious, he wasn't saying--well, whatever. He shrugs it off.</p><p>“Good!” he says. “Cuz that'd suck! Hopefully he ignores you most of the time.”</p><p>Chilton flicks him a glance but doesn't say anything, munching on dumplings instead. Right, he probably wants Rich to stop talking about it. Face warming, Rich stuffs the last cube in his mouth, feeling as dumb as he thought Anton was a second ago.</p><p>Miguel blows out a long breath and rubs his forehead with his free hand. “Shit,” he mutters. “You're not being used as a gladiator, are you.”</p><p>Rich stares from him to Chilton, who's gone thin-lipped, gaze locked on the dumplings. He shifts in his chair, a restless, full-body squirm, and lets out a shaky little breath through clenched teeth, then stuffs down another couple bites. </p><p>“He's not--” Miguel stumbles on, “he's--”</p><p>“Can we <em>not</em> talk about it?” Chilton cuts him off, finally looking up to glare at Miguel, who immediately puts his hands up.</p><p>“Sorry! No, you're right, that was, I shouldn't’ve said that. I was out of line. Sorry.” He turns to Anton. “So, uh, tell us what happened in the episode.”</p><p>Chilton relaxes slowly as Anton starts babbling about the show. Rich stares at the bottle in his hand to keep from staring at Chilton, because… <em>what?</em> Kane's not using him as a whipping boy, he's... Using him as a normal PRT? Rich wants to dismiss that, except he remembers about the execs. Put that together with the flushed, miserable twitchiness Chilton's been displaying, the relentless pants situation he’s got going on, the bruises that show around the edges of his tight little vest, and the conclusion is as clear as it is crazy.</p><p>Rich assumed the drugs were a one-time thing, specific to the nasty trick Kane's pulling with setting Chilton up to be gangbanged by a whole department, but if Kane came up with that, he's already thinking of Chilton that way. Because he's already using the guy like that himself. The arrogance of it is stunning, even for Kane. Chilton’s a good-looking guy, for sure, with a face like that and a <em>body </em>like that and Rich himself has privately, previously entertained certain dumb fantasies about what he might be persuaded to do with handsome, heroic Mike Chilton, but also Chilton doesn’t specifically hate <em>Rich </em>and Rich hasn’t been trying to <em>kill</em> Chilton and his gang for years.</p><p>This is<em> so</em> fucked up<em>.</em></p><p>Now Rich is sorry he ate those cubes. He swallows hard, sets his drink down half-finished. Surreptitiously eyes Chilton as he scarfs down the last of the dumplings. Hell, does Kane even bother to feed him? Not nearly enough, from the looks of it.</p><p>The break room door opens. Chilton is on his feet with his back against a wall the same second, which makes Rich and Anton jump and Jason pause in the doorway before sidling in, black brows skating up his forehead. Travis and Paul edge in after him.</p><p>“Hi?” Rich says pointedly.</p><p>“Hey,” Jason says, without taking his eyes off Chilton. He's wide-eyed, smiling like a dope. “Wow, hi. Mike Chilton, in our department, this is <em>so</em> cool.”</p><p>“Mike Chilton chilling in our break room!” Paul adds, shaking his head in amazement, the black twists of his hair bouncing.</p><p>Chilton slowly relaxes, looking from one to another of them in a perplexed way. Rich doesn't blame him. At least <em>Rich</em> kept his fanboy tendencies to <em>himself</em>.</p><p>“Did you guys send out an announcement or something?” Chilton asks, looking from Rich to Miguel.</p><p>“Um,” says Nate, and shrinks into himself when Chilton turns to frown at him. “Not <em>generally</em>, I just, I knew these guys would want to meet you, so. I messaged them a few minutes ago.”</p><p>Before the little bombshell of Chilton's actual situation, Rich guesses.</p><p>“Sorry,” Nate adds in a mumble. “I, uh, guess I should've mentioned it.”</p><p>“You think?” Miguel says sharply. “Had me wondering what we'd do if it was Elites showing up and no one had warned us in time!”</p><p>“Come on, guys!” Jason says, grinning. “We've got <em>Mike Chilton</em> here! He could totally take down a bunch of dumb Elites, no sweat!”</p><p>“Not when he's half-starved he couldn't!” Rich snaps, irritated that Jason's not bothering to restrain his admiration.</p><p>Jason stares from him to Chilton, who shoots Rich an exasperated look, oh crap. “I'm not <em>starved</em>,” Chilton says.</p><p>“Okay, but you don't get enough to eat, as a gladiator?” Travis asks.</p><p>“It's fine,” Chilton says shortly, sitting back down at the table. “I'm fine.” He's flickering tense little glances at Rich and the others who were here first. Rich presses his lips pointedly together at him: <em>I won't say anything</em>.</p><p>“Oh, come on,” Miguel says tiredly. “He's Kane's personal punching bag, not a normal gladiator. You think he's gonna bother to treat him well?”</p><p>Chilton shoots him a look, and then some of the renewed tension eases out of his shoulders. He snorts softly and shrugs a shoulder in acknowledgement, picks up his bottle and drinks.</p><p>“Well, <em>shit</em>,” Jason says with a dark frown. “That fucking <em>sucks!</em> At least if he was in a detention cell he'd get regular meals and he wouldn't be getting beat on all the time!”</p><p>“Or getting sick tricks like this played on him,” Travis agrees, heading over to join Nate on the sofa.</p><p>Miguel has a sardonic look on his face that suggests he thinks they're overestimating the ease and comfort of a detention cell, but he doesn't say anything. Maybe because that'd be a depressing argument to have, or… maybe because in at least one way they're right. Chilton wouldn't be getting sent out as a PRT if he was locked in a cell.</p><p>Rich has the feeling Kane would find a way to make it hellish anyway, and he's not gonna think about that anymore. Paul is already seating himself at the table across from Chilton, visibly caught between dismay and excitement, and Jason leans on the back of his chair. Chilton eyes them.</p><p>“Okay so,” Paul says, a smile breaking through as he spreads his hands on the table, brown skin dark against the dingy white surface. “I gotta ask. How fast… can you take down an Ultra-Golem by yourself?”</p><p>“Uh,” Chilton says. “What, you mean like this? Could be awhile.”</p><p>“No no no, <em>usually</em>, you know!” Paul says hastily.</p><p>“Well, usually I'd have my gang with me,” Chilton points out, leaning back in his chair. He does a weird little hitch and shiver, breath catching, but goes on almost smoothly: “But without them--with my car, or just my staff?”</p><p>Rich edges over to Miguel as Paul answers, obviously delighted Chilton's playing along with his fanboy game. “So,” Rich says in an undertone.</p><p>Miguel glares up at him. “No, I'm still not going to get you a--”</p><p>“For fuck's sake, man, <em>no</em>,” Rich growls as quietly as he can. He takes a breath. “We can't just leave it like this. It's <em>fucked up</em>. The shit Kane's doing to him--we gotta do something.”</p><p>“Like <em>what</em>,” Miguel says. Rich notices he isn't arguing with the main statement, though.</p><p>“Look, isn't there some way to help him get to the ground floor?” Rich says even more quietly. It's not that he doesn't trust Paul and the others, it's just that it's a bad idea to talk about this out loud, period. “I've heard, I dunno, we might do that sometimes.”</p><p>Miguel lets out a long breath, shaking his head. “I'm not the one to talk to, I don't know much about--”</p><p>“Raoul,” Anton says, matching their low voices as he steps up to Miguel's shoulder, and Rich twitches. He thought he was being quiet enough, but then, Anton was standing pretty close. And Rich trusts him, it's fine. </p><p>“You wanna talk to Raoul, I think,” Anton says. “I mean, I could be wrong, I dunno for sure, but. Ben would know, if it's not Raoul.”</p><p>“Well, yeah,” Rich says. “But Raoul, okay.”</p><p>Chilton is well into explaining an Ultra-Golem's weak points now and how to attack it on foot with plasma blades versus in a car with an impressive amount of firepower. He seems more relaxed, leaning forward in his chair, gesturing, and Paul and the others are completely enthralled. Even Nate's looking up from his screen to listen, Travis leaning forward eagerly next to him.</p><p>Rich doesn't want to leave while all the interesting stuff is going on right here, but the alternative is calling Raoul in here, and this conversation should definitely be private--although Chilton has a right to be in on it, too. Maybe Raoul should come to get him or something?</p><p>“So,” Rich says, “should someone go talk to Raoul, or like--”</p><p>“Okay, but the thing is,” Miguel says quick and low, “helping people out like that is dangerous when they're just normal citizens. Helping <em>him?</em> That's a hell of a thing to ask someone.”</p><p>Rich stares at him. “Are you fucking kidding?” he says, barely keeping his voice down. “The shit he's dealing with, we can't just--”</p><p>“I <em>know</em>,” Miguel says, “but--”</p><p>“We can <em>ask</em>,” Anton says, cutting them both off, and then Rich realizes Chilton's stopped talking behind him. Anton glances past him and shrinks into himself with a weak smile. Rich looks back over his shoulder and Chilton is watching them, dark eyes narrow. </p><p>“Everything okay over there?” Chilton says.</p><p>“Yeah, man,” Rich says, trying not to sigh out loud. He gets why an intense, secretive argument might make Chilton edgy right now, but it'd be nice if the guy could chill and stop being so suspicious of people who are on his side.</p><p>“We're good, we're fine,” Miguel says irritably, and adds to Rich at normal volume, “So I guess, go on and message him--or actually, yeah, you should--”</p><p>He cuts off as the door opens again, tensing up like Rich is, though not as much as Chilton. At least Chilton doesn't spring out of his chair this time.</p><p>It's Chuck, tall and fuzz-haired and diffident, and Rich gets briefly distracted for the fiftieth time since Chuck reappeared. Rich would be the first to admit that no one looks good at fifteen, but Chuck was gangly and awkward even for a fifteen-year-old, which makes it all the more startling that he's gotten <em>hot</em>. He's grown into his limbs, and when he's relaxed, poking at code or a game late at night, he kind of unfolds, showing startling flashes of ease and self-confidence. It's <em>distracting</em>, is what it is.</p><p>And given that young Rich was distracted by him even as a half-grown beanpole, this development is not entirely welcome. Rich doesn't fucking need ancient crushes rearing their heads, it's annoying.</p><p>Chuck glances around at them all, frowning, gaze catching briefly on Chilton in his skimpy uniform--who is wide-eyed and frozen absolutely still, Rich realizes.</p><p>“What's with the party?” Chuck asks.</p><p>Jason laughs, but before he can answer, Chilton says quietly, reverently: “Chuck.”</p><p>Chuck looks back at him, blinking, as Rich stares at Chilton and so does everyone else. “Uh, hi?”</p><p>Chilton looks completely stricken, and then he drops his head. “He really did it,” he says.</p><p>Anton steps forward and says hesitantly, “Oh, um,” and it clicks together in Rich's head: Chilton knows Chuck, but Chuck doesn't recognize Chilton, oh <em>shit</em>.</p><p>Too late, he says hastily, “Chuck, man, you really oughta--”</p><p>“He wiped your memory,” Chilton says, and the entire room winces or swears as Chuck doubles over with a choked noise, clutching at his head.</p><p>“Dammit, Chilton!” Rich snaps as Anton hurries forward to grab Chuck and drag him out the door, or try, because after two steps Chuck gets his feet under him and resists. Not only is he taller than Anton, he's a lot stronger than he looks, so Anton has no chance of moving him anywhere against his will.</p><p>“What?!” Chilton says, on his feet now and staring anxiously at Chuck, looking bewildered and alarmed. He glances at Rich and back to Chuck. “What happened, why is he--”</p><p>“You cannot <em>say</em> that shit!” Rich says. “Or <em>this</em> happens!” He waves a hand at Chuck, starting to straighten up but still breathing hard, still holding his head.</p><p>“Say--” Chilton stops himself before anyone can lunge forward to slap a hand over his mouth. Jason and Miguel both untense slightly.</p><p>“Chuck, can you clear out a sec so we can do a little education, here?” Miguel says.</p><p>Chuck looks up, frowning at Chilton, fingertips rubbing at his temples. Rich vividly remembers the startling pain of having his brain burn set off, and how it would fade to a low throb that left his skull feeling bruised and fragile. The last time it happened to him was a year ago, but it's not the kind of thing you forget. Unless you get memory-wiped again, of course...</p><p>“Did someone say ‘Chilton’?” Chuck asks.</p><p>Rich bites his lip and sees everyone else shift uncertainly just like he is. None of them know why Chuck got wiped in the first place, so they can't know for sure what will burn him besides the usual triggers, but it sure doesn't seem like a good idea to let him talk to Deluxe's most famous traitor.</p><p>“Yeah, man,” Rich starts, “but seriously--”</p><p>“Wait a sec,” Chuck says, “<em>Mikey?</em>”</p><p>Chilton's whole face lights up, and he sways forward, staggering. “<em>Yes!</em> Chuckles, it's me!”</p><p>Chuck giggles, glancing sideways at Anton and around at the others as his cheeks flush. “Oh my god, <em>Chuckles</em>,” he mutters, “I remember that. Um, anyway! Guys, don't worry, it's fine, he's not gonna say anything dangerous, we grew up together, that's all!”</p><p>Rich looks back at Chilton in time to see all the light go out of his face, and the poor dude collapses back in his seat like his legs just got cut out from under him. It's fucking <em>painful</em>, like someone went and shredded his last hopes right in front of him. He swallows and doesn't say anything, and by the time Chuck looks back at him, he's got an attempt at a smile on.</p><p>“Shit,” Anton murmurs, and Rich glances at him. Anton widens his eyes meaningfully, flicks a look from Chilton to Chuck to the floor and back to Rich. Holy shit, is he serious? He's jumping to conclusions; okay, so Chilton definitely didn't <em>just</em> grow up with Chuck, they got a lot closer than that sometime in the last three years, which… actually does suggest Chuck must've been in Motorcity, because where else would you hang out with the leader of the Burners? But they can't assume they know what he was doing down there, whatever Anton thinks.</p><p>“Well, whatever,” Miguel starts to tell Chuck, “he can still--”</p><p>“Wait a sec,” Chuck says, not paying attention. His smile fades as he looks Chilton over, eyes catching on the cuffs on his wrists. “Bro, why are you--what the fuck?”</p><p>Chilton gives him a crooked smile and shrugs. “Kane doesn't like me much these days.”</p><p>Chuck's lips thin, his jaw clenches and his back snaps straight as he crosses his arms, and suddenly it's striking how much <em>bigger</em> he is now than three years ago. When he's not hunching, he's only an inch or two shorter than Rich, and his shoulders are surprisingly broad when he squares them like that, and he may not have as much muscle as Rich but he's got a hell of a lot more than most techies, and he looks <em>intimidating</em> all of a sudden. Like someone who could wreck not just your comms, your data and your network, but also your face.</p><p>“So he demoted you from the Cadets to a punching bag and <em>cuffed</em> you?” Chuck growls. “What the fuck, Mike, what <em>happened?</em>”</p><p>“Don't answer that!” Miguel says. “Chuck, you being in here isn't safe, dude, come on!”</p><p>Chuck has the gall to <em>roll his eyes</em>, the ungrateful little bastard, glancing over at Miguel. “<em>You</em> come on! I've barely seen him since he went into the Cadets, it's not like he has any more idea than I do what I've been up to the last three years!” Chuck is glaring at Miguel, so he doesn't see the way Chilton's eyes widen. “He's not gonna trigger anything else because he doesn't <em>know</em> anything to slip up and say!” Chuck finishes.</p><p>Chilton glances sideways at Rich and Miguel in transparent dismay, teeth set in his lip, then around at the others and to Chuck again, and hastily tries to look normal as Chuck turns back to him. Rich stares. Mike Chilton knows exactly what Chuck's been doing, apparently. And he wouldn't look so panicked if it was something innocuous.</p><p>Holy fuck, Anton's right. Chuck <em>was</em> a Burner. Not up here stuck on some secret project, not keeping his head down after fleeing downstairs, no. The genius baby brother of this entire department was off being a fucking <em>rebel fighter</em>, and Rich is pretty sure he could win money betting on which one he was. Chilton’s number two dude, the copilot of Mutt, the genius hacker, <em>that </em>one. </p><p>“No fucking way,” Paul says, staring from Chilton to Chuck and back.</p><p>“Watch it,” Miguel tells Paul, but he's staring too. They all are except Chuck, who's frowning around at them.</p><p>The more Rich thinks about it, the more it fits. Chuck vanished shortly after Chilton defected in the first place, and he showed up again only a few days after Chilton got captured: enough time to stick Chuck in Medical and wipe three years worth of memories. He's got unreasonable amounts of muscle for a programmer and in the showers Rich caught a glimpse of some <em>notable</em> scars, the kinds Rich hasn’t seen since he worked in Engineering; heavy machinery industrial accident kind of scars. Working with <em>cars </em>kind of scars. Fighting robots kind of scars. </p><p>“What?” Chuck demands.</p><p>“Nothing, man,” Rich says.</p><p>Chuck gives him a narrow-eyed look, glances back at Chilton, then pauses and stares when Chilton's gaze skitters away from his. </p><p>“Oh my god,” Chuck says in annoyance. “You <em>do</em> know something!”</p><p>“Yeah, no <em>kidding</em>,” Jason says, not quite under his breath, and Chuck turns the look on him, then studies the rest of them.</p><p>“Are you <em>serious?</em>” Chuck says in a disgusted tone. “<em>All</em> of you know now?” He doesn't wait for an answer, their carefully blank faces must be enough, because he throws his hands up and growls, “This is bullshit! God, sick leave is <em>so dumb!</em>”</p><p>“Sick leave?” Chilton asks.</p><p>“That's what we call it,” Rich says.</p><p>“Medical always tells you you had a <em>fever</em>, when you wake up,” Jason explains with a twist to his smile. “So then, what you're left with is sick leave, see?”</p><p>Chilton nods in comprehension.</p><p>“But forget about that,” Chuck says impatiently, pulling out a chair to sit down at the table. “Seriously, bro, this is fucked up! Whoever the fuck gave you this assignment--”</p><p>“Kane,” Chilton says shortly. </p><p>Chuck <em>snarls</em>, one hand going to his head like he's gonna yank on his hair, except it's way too short to grab, so he just swipes his palm across it instead. “<em>Shit</em>.” He stares at Chilton, scowling. “He wouldn't have assumed we'd be decent fucking people here, he only set it up like this because he wanted us to fucking <em>brutalize</em> you. <em>Fuck.</em> And if that's what he wanted,” Chuck adds, frowning down at the table as he thinks out loud to himself, “he's not gonna quit; you'll be lucky if he doesn't send you to the barracks next.”</p><p>Rich flinches inwardly. Chilton's jaw clenches and he looks down at his hands on the table, his hips doing an awful, involuntary-looking shift and roll. Maybe he'd already considered that possibility and maybe not, but either way Chuck didn't have to shove it in his face like that. <em>Hey, wow, you could get doped up and gang-raped by your former fellow cadets! Great, </em>thanks<em> Chuck.</em></p><p>Chuck looks up and studies Chilton's flushed, miserably angry face, and his eyes narrow. “Forget it, <em>no</em>. This is unacceptable. Come on.” Shoving his chair back, he slams his hands down on the table as he stands, making Paul jump.</p><p>Chilton blinks up at Chuck, who grabs his arm and tugs him up from his chair, then takes his wrist and strides for the door. </p><p>About four people start talking at once, Miguel raising his voice above the others, “Chuck, what are you doing?!”</p><p>“I'm doing something about this,” Chuck snaps over his shoulder, and he's out the door with Chilton wide-eyed and close at his heels. Miguel throws his hands in the air. Anton hurries forward to follow Chuck, but Rich catches him with one long stride, clapping a hand on his shoulder.</p><p>“I got this,” Rich says, and goes after Chuck.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Rich breaks into a jog outside the break room and catches up around the corner, matching Chuck's quick pace easily. Chilton's on Chuck's other side, breathing hard for a fit guy and looking not so great.</p>
<p>“So, whatcha thinking, baby boy?” Rich asks casually.</p>
<p>Chuck shoots him a narrow, calculating look that’s surprisingly unnerving. It gets Rich to add hastily, “I was thinking of talking to Raoul about it, you know.”</p>
<p>Chuck's expression shifts, turns less closed as he nods. “Yeah, that's what I'm--oh, shit.” His stride hitches and he stops, turns to Chilton. “Mikey, I know you’ve...uh.”</p>
<p>Rich looks over at Mike and feels his brain glitch, because Chilton has this bright-eyed, dazed grin on and is looking at Chuck with what Rich would like to describe as an admiring <em>glow</em>, because the other description is ‘horny beyond all capacity to cope’. </p>
<p>Chuck apparently doesn’t want to deal with that, because he blinks a couple times, twitches a half-smile back and says carefully, “You can't be happy with all this, right?”</p>
<p>Rich bites his lip.</p>
<p>“Um,” Chilton says, obviously struggling to re-engage his brain, “with…?”</p>
<p>“This mess, Kane treating you like this,” Chuck says, and Rich shoots him a disbelieving look. Why the hell does he even have to <em>ask?</em></p>
<p>Chilton frowns, eyes starting to focus again. “No? Not… no. It sucks pretty bad.”</p>
<p>“Okay,” Chuck says, coming closer, putting a careful hand on his shoulder, which Chilton sways into, “and, dude, you realize if Kane has a grudge this serious against you, things aren't gonna get any better--”</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Chilton says, cutting him off, “I--believe me, buddy, I know.” He puts a hand on Chuck’s chest and licks his lips, and Rich takes note, because Chilton’s kept a careful distance from everyone around him until now. Rich had assumed the happy glow was just because Chuck’s a friend and teammate, but that’s not enough to explain the touching. Either the drug’s taken this long to really get to Chilton, or he’s even more comfortable with Chuck than Rich realized.</p>
<p>“Ah,” Chuck says grimly, going still. Watching Chilton pet him. “Shit. Sorry, dude--hey, what's up? You okay?”</p>
<p>Rich looks Chilton over again, but he has no idea what spurred the question. Chilton’s been twitchy and flinchy and squirmy this whole time, is Chuck only <em>now </em>noticing the whole... deal? </p>
<p>“It's fine,” Chilton says briefly, in a tone that obviously means, <em>it's not and we don't need to talk about it</em>.</p>
<p>Chuck frowns at him, head tilting. “For fuck's sake, dude--oh. <em>Oh</em>, shi--iiiuh, crap. It’s the language, isn’t it? I am<em> so</em> sorry, bro, I totally, uh. It slipped my mind,” he finishes with a weak smile.</p>
<p>“It's <em>fine</em>, don't worry about it,” Chilton says, shrugging and pulling away, shoulders hunching up. </p>
<p>“Mikey,” Chuck says in annoyance, “don't be an idiot, if there's one thing techies are used to, it's adjusting what we can and can't say to different people! It's not a problem.”</p>
<p>“Wait, can and can't say?” Rich says, frowning between them. “What the fuck kind of trigger does <em>he</em> have?”</p>
<p>“He was a <em>cadet</em>,” Chuck says pointedly. “He’s been dealing with our dirty f-- freakin’ mouths this whole time. Didn't you transfer here straight out of the Junior Cadets? Shouldn't you--”</p>
<p>“I did not!” Rich snaps. “I was in there for like <em>two weeks</em> before I quit, and you know it!”</p>
<p>“Well, <em>anyway,</em>” Chuck says, “you know they don't let cadets swear, right?”</p>
<p>“Uh, yeah?” Rich says, and then catches up. “Wait, so--you still can't swear, it hurts?” he asks Chilton. Chilton, badass rebel, still doesn't <em>swear?!</em> “I didn't even hear you try!”</p>
<p>“He <em>didn't</em>,” Chuck says, exasperated. “It's unpleasant for him to listen to <em>us</em> swear, too. Why do you think cadets always get on us about our <em>conduct</em>? It hurts ‘em.”</p>
<p>“...Oh,” Rich says, abruptly stuck in a rapid review of everything he's said since Chilton walked into the department. He thinks there were some sentences he didn't swear in… “Shhh-crap.”</p>
<p>Chilton gives him a startled look, looks back up at Chuck. “You guys don't have to, it's fine, I'm--I should be used to it, by now.”</p>
<p>“But it's still uncomfortable, right?” Chuck says. “The conditioning is intense, I remember how you were when--uh, when you started-- it. So we'll watch our language for you, dude, it's not a big deal.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, for real,” Rich says, feeling guilty. “Least we can do.”</p>
<p>Chilton shrugs awkwardly. “Thanks,” he mutters. “So, buddy, what were you saying about how Kane's not gonna stop being mean to me?” He smiles crookedly at Chuck and Rich abruptly catches up, and has to focus to keep his expression under control. Granted, sick leave causes plenty of awkwardness and misery, but sometimes the resulting conversations are funny, too. Like Chuck thinking he has to explain to <em>his actual rebel gang leader </em>that Kane's got it in for him. Then again, if all he can remember is that Mike <em>used </em>to be loyal... </p>
<p>“Right,” Chuck says, and lowers his voice. “So, uh. If you got that down... how do you feel about leaving Deluxe?”</p>
<p>Chilton opens his mouth, closes it again, glances at Rich, maybe unsure what's safe to say.</p>
<p>Rich nods for him. “That's not gonna be a problem. He's been downstairs before.”</p>
<p>Chuck frowns at him, then Chilton, and then his eyes widen. “Oh. Oh wow, Mikey, I'm so sorry, dude. No wonder he's making your life hell.”</p>
<p>Chilton gives a surprised snort of laughter. “Yeah! Uh, I definitely know why.”</p>
<p>“Okay,” Chuck says, nodding, “if I don't have to argue you into changing floors, we're good!” He turns and starts off again and Chilton and Rich follow, Chilton looking stunned.</p>
<p>“Wait, you think--dude, I can't escape, I've tried!” Chilton says. “That's one reason I'm barefoot, to slow me down, make it harder to fight free.”</p>
<p>“You didn't have help before,” Chuck says. “We know how to help people get downstairs, Raoul's an expert.”</p>
<p>Chilton's mouth is hanging open. “Seriously?”</p>
<p>“Vertical transitions a specialty,” Chuck quips, and Rich snickers appreciatively.</p>
<p>“Why do you guys talk like that?” Chilton's distracted into asking, glancing from Chuck's back to Rich. “‘Downstairs’ and ‘changing floors’ and, what was it--'boots’! Like, I get about the,” he gestures, glancing at Chuck again, “the stuff you can't talk about, that makes sense, but what about the rest of it?”</p>
<p>Rich does his best to explain the reasons techies prefer to use coded speech that unfriendly authorities can't understand, but he's not sure how good a job he does. Chuck shows no interest in helping, and then they're at Raoul's cubicle and Rich can stop tying his brain in knots trying to explain stuff he never thinks about.</p>
<p>Chuck knocks on the doorframe. “Hey, we need to talk.”</p>
<p>“What?” Raoul says. “Who's 'we’?”</p>
<p>Chuck steps into the cubicle, followed by Chilton and Rich. Raoul blinks at Chilton, attention no doubt caught by the PRT outfit, and then his eyes widen and keep widening and he twitches back in his chair.</p>
<p>“Okay!” he says, sounding distinctly unnerved. “Mike Chilton! In my cube! Hi? What the fuck, boys?!” He stares from Chuck to Rich, who looks at Chuck, waiting for him to take the lead again. Chuck is frowning at Raoul, though.</p>
<p>“How the fuhhh-heck, do you know Mike? What, he's famous now?”</p>
<p>“Try infamous!” Raoul says, trying for a dry tone he's too wide-eyed to pull off.</p>
<p>Chuck frowns at him, then at Chilton, who looks helplessly at Rich.</p>
<p>“Yeah, no, we're not talking about that,” Rich says, even though he deeply wants to tell Raoul the other part. Chilton nods, reassured, and Chuck huffs. Rich hesitates, but he can't resist. He catches Raoul's eye when Chuck isn't looking and mouths <em>Burner</em>, jerking his head at Chuck.</p>
<p>Raoul's blank look gives way to a poleaxed expression that's deeply satisfying. “You're <em>shitting</em> me,” he says, and Chuck frowns at Rich in growing irritation.</p>
<p>“I'm so serious, man,” Rich says, shaking his head.</p>
<p>“Holy fuck,” Raoul says, staring at Chuck like he's adding up some of the same details Rich has noticed.</p>
<p>“Watch the swearing,” Chuck snaps, glaring at him. “Mike's still got the cadet conditioning.”</p>
<p>“Oh! Whoops,” Raoul says, giving Chilton an apologetic grimace before going back to gaping at Chuck.</p>
<p>“Crazy, huh?” Rich says, grinning at Raoul.</p>
<p>“Can you guys <em>not?</em>” Chuck growls. “At least wait until I'm not here before talking about sh-stuff I can't know about!”</p>
<p>“Right,” Raoul says, giving his head a quick shake, “yeah, that's fair.” He glances back at Chilton and goes still, frowning, eyes flicking over the PRT outfit with the shorts all tight in front, the bruises, the flushed, sweaty face. “Ah,” he says heavily, tucking one long curl behind his ear. “So, <em>your</em> life sucks.”</p>
<p>Chilton's shoulders hunch and he crosses his arms, looking away.</p>
<p>“So good of you to notice!” Chuck says, throwing his hands in the air. “So cone of silence us and we can discuss that.”</p>
<p>Raoul gives him a look Rich reads as combined annoyance and startlement at Chuck's peremptory tone, rolls his eyes and turns to flick on the sound canceller for his cubicle. The low hum of the department carrying on all around them abruptly cuts out, and Chilton looks around in startlement.</p>
<p>“Good,” Chuck says, “thanks. Mike needs to change floors <em>now</em>, this is completely insane. I know you can make that happen.”</p>
<p>Raoul is staring at him and Rich has to agree. Chuck's tone isn't peremptory now, it's intent and straight-up commanding, like he's absolutely confident he has the right to be giving orders. It's… honestly hot. Rich wouldn't have guessed he could manage better than bitchy and nagging.</p>
<p>Raoul shakes his head, glances at Chilton, frowning. “He's gonna be, uh, a little more complicated than that. A lot more, actually--Chuck, I'm not sure--”</p>
<p>“Raoul, we <em>have</em> to,” Chuck says intensely. “Are you tracking this?” He waves a hand at Chilton, the condition he's in, and Chilton huffs and shifts his weight, staring at the floor tight-lipped. If it was Rich, he probably wouldn't be thrilled either to have it shown off what a pitiful mess he was.</p>
<p>“You know what was supposed to happen to him tonight?” Chuck goes on. “What might happen anyway when Kane realizes we didn't cooperate? You want that on your conscience?”</p>
<p>“Whoa, hey,” Rich says, frowning at him. “Not cool, that's not on Raoul.”</p>
<p>“Chuckles, come on,” Chilton says uncomfortably. “You, um, you don't know the whole deal. He's right, it's complicated.”</p>
<p>“Do I look like I give a ff-crap?!” Chuck snaps. “I'm not leaving you like this, bro, this is not okay!”</p>
<p>Chilton gets that glowy, swooning,<em> my hero</em> look again, staring at Chuck with that dazed smile. He's still breathing hard, which is worrying.</p>
<p>“I don't care how complicated it is, this is untenable and we're getting you out of here!” Chuck finishes.</p>
<p>“‘<em>We’?</em>” Raoul says.</p>
<p>“Yes, we, because if you won't do it, I will!” Chuck says.</p>
<p>“Okay,” Raoul says, brushing his hair back over his shoulders, “just chill for a second, kid, you have to know that's not a good--”</p>
<p>“Don't tell me to chill!” Chuck snarls. “My best friend is in danger of being <em>gangraped</em>--”</p>
<p>Rich and Chilton wince at the same time, Rich in reaction to the nasty irony of <em>in danger of</em>, and Chilton probably wishing Chuck would stop talking about it.</p>
<p>“--This is not a chillworthy topic!”</p>
<p>“Yeah, I <em>got</em> that, thanks!” Raoul snaps back, fingers clenched on the back of his chair.</p>
<p>“Then what's the holdup?!” Chuck says, flinging both hands in the air.</p>
<p>“How about you <em>shut up </em>for two seconds so I can <em>tell</em> you!” Raoul says.</p>
<p>Rich is staring at Chuck at this point, because he's never seen the guy be this pushy, forceful enough to do a number on Raoul's already shaken composure. Rich waits for Chuck to huddle back into himself at the rebuke, or at least go sulkily quiet, but instead he stops a second, glaring at Raoul, takes a deep breath and dips his head in a stiff nod.</p>
<p>“Feel free to enlighten me, then,” he says coldly.</p>
<p>Rich can't help giving Chilton a <em>what the fuck, man</em> look, but instead of looking bewildered or unnerved, like Raoul is underneath the glare, Chilton just smiles ruefully at Rich and shrugs a shoulder like <em>whatcha gonna do, it's Chuck</em>. Like this is <em>normal</em>.</p>
<p>“Okay!” Raoul says, raising a hand to tick points off on his fingers. “First of all, Kane's gonna be expecting him to try to escape, unlike ordinary people.”</p>
<p>Chilton twitches and grabs Rich's elbow. “Can I, uh. Gotta talk to you a sec,” he mutters, glancing uncertainly at Chuck, and Rich gets it.</p>
<p>“No problem,” he says as Chuck narrows his eyes at them both, and Rich leads Chilton out of Raoul's cube, outside the field of the sound canceller. “He can't hear us now,” he assures Chilton, who looks at Chuck standing three steps away and bites his lip. Then he looks back at Rich and must realize that Rich doesn't want Chuck getting burned any more than he does, because he nods, though he keeps his voice low anyway.</p>
<p>“If you guys can get me out, you've gotta get him out with me. I can't leave him behind.”</p>
<p>Rich opens his mouth and shuts it again. “...Ah,” he says. How is he supposed to tell Mike Chilton 'No’? “Um. You know we'd take care of him, right? I mean, we have been, he's doing fine here--”</p>
<p>Chilton's shaking his head, shifting restlessly. Rich doesn't know how the hell the guy can focus when he's so worked up he can barely stand still; Rich is having trouble focusing just standing next to him. He's way better-looking than he is on the Wanted posters, and he's so turned on it has to be painful by now, and he'd probably take Rich's hand off if he tried anything, but what <em>if?</em> What if Chilton didn't, what if he was just grateful for the relief--god, Rich has gotta quit this, even thinking about it is fucked up.</p>
<p>“I can't leave him up here,” Chilton says, “I won't. Kane could--he could do anything and Chuck wouldn't even know why!”</p>
<p>Rich sets his teeth in his lip and worries it, frowning. “Okay,” he says, “but why would he bother? I mean, correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't Kane fixated on you? If you're gone, why would he pay any attention to Chuck?”</p>
<p>Chilton shakes his head, quick and tight. “I'm not risking it,” he says. “Look, that guy--Ralph?”</p>
<p>“Raoul,” Rich says.</p>
<p>“He's right, it's gonna be hard to get me out of here, maybe it's not possible, I dunno, but if it <em>is</em>, it can't be any harder to get me <em>and</em> Chuck out.” Chilton scrubs his palms down his mostly-bare thighs, twitches once and shivers. His hips are shifting from side to side, like they want to grind against thin air and he's controlling it as best he can.</p>
<p>Rich drags his mind back on track. “Harder, probably not. We can't do it, though--it's <em>not safe for Chuck</em>,” he raises his voice to override Chilton's immediate objection. “You saw how it hurt him when you mentioned the memory wipe,” he says, much more quietly in case Clive is nearby. “You mention the Burners, it'll make that look like a party. Now think a second what would happen if you take him downstairs, <em>with</em> the Burners, surrounded by everything he's not allowed to remember.” Rich licks his lips, edgy just thinking about it. “I don't know if he'd even survive--get burned too long and hard and his heart might give out.”</p>
<p>Chilton swallows, looking sick. “But I can't just leave him!”</p>
<p>“Man, you <em>have</em> to,” Rich says. “He's fine, we know how to deal with brain burn, I swear we'll look after him, but you're getting <em>wrecked</em> and you've got no one to watch your back. If Raoul can figure out how to do it, you've gotta go.”</p>
<p>Chilton's breathing faster now, with a panicked rasp to it. The fingers of both hands drag through his short hair, digging into his scalp. “I can't,” he says, “I <em>can't</em>--maybe Kane will forget about him for a while, but eventually he'll realize he's got a hostage! He'll use him against me, against us, he could <em>kill</em> him--”</p>
<p>“Chilton, <em>breathe</em>,” Rich says in alarm, putting his hands on the guy's shoulders, and Chilton groans softly and leans into the touch before he realizes and jerks away, cheeks flushing darker.</p>
<p>Okay, that's, yeah, that's pretty clear. Chilton doesn't want any help, thanks, at least from Rich. Rich swallows and focuses again.</p>
<p>“It's only four months, man, just, I dunno, you and your gang keep your heads down down there and--”</p>
<p>“<em>What's</em> four months?” Chilton says.</p>
<p>Rich stares at him a second, then bounces the heel of his hand off his forehead. “I'm a fucking moron--oh, sorry, shh-crap.” He takes a breath to pull his scattered thoughts together. “He can follow you down after another four months or so,” he says carefully. “Brain burn heals after a while. He still won't remember what got wiped, but he can learn, it won't hurt if you tell him stuff he forgot.”</p>
<p>“It'll--he’ll be okay?” Chilton says hoarsely, staring at Rich. “You're serious, he'll get better? He can come home?”</p>
<p>Rich's heart squeezes painfully. “Yeah,” Rich says, as steadily as he can with Chilton giving him that look. “He'll be fine, man, it just takes time to recover.”</p>
<p>Chilton makes a shaky noise and scrubs both hands over his face, hides behind them, and Rich is afraid the guy might break down, in which case there'd be nothing for Rich to do but fling himself out a window. “Okay,” Chilton says, fortunately, and sucks in a deep breath. “Okay.” He looks up at Rich. “Thanks. I thought--I didn't know he’d get better. Kane said--” he stops, shakes it off. “Thanks, anyway.”</p>
<p>Rich grimaces. He doesn’t want to know what Kane told Chilton, messing with his head. “I should've said something before,” he says, rubbing the side of his neck, “I just. Totally forgot you wouldn't know. Um. Sorry.”</p>
<p>“It's fine,” Chilton starts, and then his head snaps up and he dives back into Raoul's cube to catch Chuck as he reels, clutching his head. Rich hastily ducks in himself in time to hear Raoul saying, “--Not to think about that stuff, kid! God.”</p>
<p>“I know,” Chuck gasps, “my bad. <em>Fuck</em>--sorry, bro.” He leans dizzily against Chilton, panting and rubbing his temples, and Chilton holds him upright, fierce and intent and--oh, going dazed again. Distracted and overheated, and definitely not jerking away like he just did from Rich. He looks like he's a breath away from grinding up against Chuck.</p>
<p>So that's conclusive, Rich decides, glum but unsurprised. It's not the drugs, it's Chuck.</p>
<p>Raoul has noticed Chilton's… feelings on the matter, too, by the sharp way he's eyeing the guy. And judging by the flush rising on Chuck's cheeks, so has he--and he's not exactly scrambling to pull away. The blush could be sympathetic embarrassment on Chilton's behalf, but the way Chuck's avoiding everyone's eyes suggests that's not all it is.</p>
<p>Raoul strokes a thumb over his moustache in a meditative way, then nods to himself. “Chuck, looks like Mike could use some help. Why don't you take him back to your cube and help him out, and I'll keep thinking about the vertical transfer issue.”</p>
<p>“Dude!” Chuck squawks, going from pink to red. “No! I mean, not that I--he's <em>drugged</em>, I'm not gonna take advantage of that!”</p>
<p>“You're not,” Chilton says breathlessly, and he's kind of wrapped around Chuck at this point, hips rocking once before going shivering-still again. “You won't be, Chuckles, please.”</p>
<p>“Mikey!” Chuck swallows and says, less squeaky and more steady, “You're not exactly thinking straight right now, dude. You, you don't actually want this, you just, you're desperate, so--”</p>
<p>“Man, he's <em>so into</em> you,” Rich says in annoyance.</p>
<p>“Shut up, Rich!” Chuck snaps. “He is not, and it'd be seriously messed up to--to just go ahead and--”</p>
<p>Chilton snorts a breathless half-laugh. “Buddy, I definitely am, and it really wouldn't, trust me.”</p>
<p>Rich stares at him, at the wry twist to his smile, and jumps to a conclusion. “Holy shit, you guys were fucking,” he blurts out.</p>
<p>Chilton winces barely perceptibly at the swearing, then goes wide-eyed, watching Chuck worriedly because <em>shit</em>, what was Rich thinking to say that right in front of Chuck?! He and Mike were together as <em>Burners</em>, it’s a terrible idea to mention it--</p>
<p>“No we weren't!” Chuck yelps, catches the look on Chilton's face and freezes, stunned. “Oh my god we were.”</p>
<p>...Except Chuck doesn’t know about the Burners part, right. As far as he knows, he’s been a good, law-abiding citizen of Deluxe this whole time, and he and Mike got together up here. Rich breathes out again.</p>
<p>“Oh my god,” Chuck says again. “Bro, seriously?”</p>
<p>Chilton nods cautiously, starting to relax again, all flushed and hopeful, pressing himself against Chuck, and Rich has no idea how Chuck is still talking instead of dragging Chilton off for some privacy <em>right now</em>. If someone was looking at Rich that way, he wouldn't waste time talking.</p>
<p>“How the he-heck did I manage that?” Chuck asks, and Chilton smiles up from under his lashes.</p>
<p>“Cuz I like you, dude.”</p>
<p>Chuck's reaction to that is to flush redder and groan quietly, instead of being thrilled like anyone sensible. “I must have been such a disaster,” he says like the genius idiot he is. “I've never been with a guy--I mean, hadn't been, back then--”</p>
<p>“Um,” Rich says, heart sinking.</p>
<p>Chuck rolls his eyes. “Handjobs don't count!”</p>
<p>“I wasn't counting them!” Rich says, face heating, and crosses his arms defensively as Chuck and Chilton both gape at him and Raoul snorts quietly.</p>
<p>“You--you and Chuck?” Chilton says.“Back, like, before he...?” He stops himself before saying anything like <em>left Deluxe and became a Burner</em>.</p>
<p>“Three years ago, yeah,” Rich says. He can't tell if Chilton looks displeased about that or if his expression is just shock, and edges backwards in case. He shrugs awkwardly. “A couple times.”</p>
<p>“Seriously?!” Chuck shrieks, and Raoul winces at the volume. “We hooked up and you didn't <em>tell</em> me?”</p>
<p>“I didn't know your sick leave went back that far!” Rich says, throwing his hands in the air. And man, isn't that a kick in the teeth; it's not like they had some epic love story, they were stupid kids, but Rich thought at the time that they were starting to be more than casual fuckbuddies, and now it turns out those memories got wiped too. </p>
<p>“Oh my <em>god</em>,” Chuck says, staring from him to Chilton like the revelation about Rich is equally amazing to the one about Chilton. That's something, at least, except that it's Chuck. The guy is shocked when <em>anyone</em> is willing to hook up with him.</p>
<p>“Are you horny kids gonna get out of my cube, or what?” Raoul sighs. “Because no one is getting off in here.”</p>
<p>“I know!” Chuck says shrilly. “Give me a second, okay, I'm--I'm processing!”</p>
<p>Chilton's snicker turns into a gasp and he shudders up against Chuck. “Please, buddy, can we just--I'm losing it, I want you so bad…”</p>
<p>Chuck makes a whimpery noise that makes Rich bite the inside of his cheek and stare up at the ceiling, because the last thing this situation needs right now is another guy with a boner.</p>
<p>“Okay, but,” Chuck says shakily, “I won't know what I'm doing, what if I--Rich!”</p>
<p>Rich twitches. “What?!”</p>
<p>“You could come and, uh, make sure I don't screw up too bad,” Chuck says, and those big blue eyes are completely unfair, all hopeful and pleading on Rich.</p>
<p>“Uh,” Rich says brilliantly. Chilton is nibbling his lip, eyeing Rich uncertainly. He doesn't say anything, though.</p>
<p>“Good,” Raoul says. “Shoo! All of you, out! Go bang each other's brains out so I can think straight!”</p>
<p>“Good luck with that,” Rich snarks automatically, because it's a lot easier than trying to decide if he should go along with this or not.</p>
<p>“Right,” Chuck says, licking his lips, “yeah. Okay, this way, bro.” Leading Chilton out, he glances back to check that Rich is coming, so Rich shrugs at Raoul and follows.</p>
<p>Honestly, Rich should probably figure out a way to turn Chuck down, and it probably makes him a dick that he's not gonna be able to make himself, but man, he <em>wants</em> this. Even just standing by to encourage Chuck or give advice or whatever, and otherwise not being involved, will still be a hell of a lot better than sitting in his cube thinking about it while he gets himself off.</p>
<p>“Chuck,” Chilton says in a low voice as they head towards Chuck's cubicle, “we don’t have to do anything if you’re not--if you don’t--”</p>
<p>“Oh, yeah!” Chuck says, “Because I’m <em>obviously</em> gonna turn down the hottest guy I’ve ever seen, are you <em>kidding?</em>”</p>
<p>“Well, so,” Chilton fumbles, “then he doesn’t have to come along, dude, we'll be fine on our own, right?”</p>
<p>“Okay, that's very nice of you, Mikey, but I’ll totally screw up on my own,” Chuck says, voice high and tight with anxiety. “And the last thing you need is some clueless virgin doing something dumb and hurting you!”</p>
<p>“Dude, you're not gonna hurt me,” Chilton says.</p>
<p>“Yeah, and Rich is going to make sure of it!” Chuck says, and pulls Chilton into his cube. Chilton throws a look at Rich over his shoulder that makes it clear if anyone's hurting him he doesn't think it's gonna be Chuck. Rich's stomach twists. He suddenly remembers that Chilton thought Rich might be related to Kane, and his nascent hope this might turn into an actual threesome sputters out with a chill. Rich suspects even vaguely resembling the man personally making Chilton's days (and nights, <em>agh</em>) hellish puts paid to his chances.</p>
<p>Right, well, he knew he didn't have much of a chance to start with, so no change there. He leans in the doorway instead of following them in right away. It's not like the cubicles are built for a bunch of broad-shouldered guys six feet and over, and Rich really doesn't want to crowd Chilton.</p>
<p>“Okay,” Chuck says, tugging his shirt down nervously as he looks around. “Okay, um. Sleeping pad, right.” He hauls it out, lays it down.</p>
<p>“Wait,” Chilton says, blinking at Chuck. His hands are fastened on his thighs, his chest heaves with his breathing, and now that he's standing still his hips jerk and shift erratically. It looks like it takes effort to focus, but he frowns and says, “Not--we're not staying here, are we?”</p>
<p>“Uh.” Chuck looks from him to Rich. “Yeah? Get in here, dude, cone of silence going up.” He turns on his own sound canceller as Rich steps in.</p>
<p>Chilton is looking even less happy than he was a minute ago, and Rich doesn't think it's just about him. He tries to think about things from an outsider's perspective and gets what might be a clue.</p>
<p>“We, uh, we pretty much live in our cubes, man,” he explains with a shrug. “Sex, rec time, sleep. We don't go back to our pods for much at all, definitely not for sex. It's not secure, you know? Bugs, cameras…”</p>
<p>“Yeah, it's way safer here,” Chuck agrees.</p>
<p>Chilton's fingers clench on his thighs. He clearly still has doubts, but he twitches an unconvincing smile, flicks a glance at Rich from under his brows.</p>
<p>“Bro?” Chuck says. “Are you worried about, um--have you ever had a threesome before?”</p>
<p>Oh, well, Chuck at least is down for Rich actually joining in, not just giving advice. That's nice, even if it's not gonna happen because Rich isn't laying a finger on Chilton without an engraved invitation.</p>
<p>Chilton makes a weird choking noise and clears his throat. “Yeah, um, I--yes. Uh. Lots, actually.”</p>
<p>“Oh! Wow, broke the cadet conditioning hard there, huh,” Chuck says, eyebrows raised. “Nice.” He shoots Rich a puzzled frown and Rich sighs.</p>
<p>“He doesn't know me,” he points out, rather than say anything as insane as<em> Mike Chilton is scared of me</em>, “and I have that big redheaded thing going on.”</p>
<p>“He hasn't even seen your big redheaded thing yet,” Chuck says, just <em>casually</em>, and Rich's entire body flushes hot. He aims a mortified glare at Chuck.</p>
<p>“I <em>mean</em> I remind him of<em> Kane</em>,” he growls.</p>
<p>Chuck frowns at him, then blinks, eyes widening. “Oh, huh. Gotcha. Wow, weird. Mikey, it's okay, dude, Rich is cool. I mean, he's a jerk sometimes, yeah,” he narrows his eyes at Rich, “but not like <em>that</em>. Especially not, y’know, when his dick's involved. Not that it is, right now, but anyway.”</p>
<p>“I thought you didn't--remember,” Chilton waves a hand vaguely, “that. With him.”</p>
<p>“Well, not <em>all</em> of it,” Chuck says, “but some, yeah.”</p>
<p>“Oh,” Chilton says, and falls silent, surreptitiously keeping an eye on Rich until he leans back against Chuck's desk and crosses his arms, <em>not moving, not coming near you</em>. Then Chilton's attention slides back to Chuck and fixes hungrily. He's got that hazy look again, like he's having trouble focusing, and he's breathing open-mouthed like he can't get enough air.</p>
<p>Rich sighs. “Man, are you gonna put the guy out of his misery, or what?” he asks Chuck.</p>
<p>“Oh!” Chuck squeaks. “Um, I guess? What, um, what do you want, bro?”</p>
<p>“Touch me?” Chilton breathes, edging closer, and Rich swallows. Chilton's smile glows like he's already forgotten anyone but Chuck exists. If Rich had wondered what their relationship was like before they got captured, if they were casual or serious, that look would thoroughly answer the question.</p>
<p>“Okay!” Chuck says. “Do you wanna, uh, take any clothes off, or are we just, like this?” The poor guy is scarlet, stumbling and awkward as if he was the fifteen-year-old that's all he distantly remembers being. Sick leave sucks.</p>
<p>“Uh.” Chilton pauses, visibly trying to concentrate. “If… you want?” He doesn't exactly look eager, but he reaches for the fastening of his little vest with clumsy hands, watching Chuck's face.</p>
<p>Chuck gives Rich a helpless look.</p>
<p>Rich represses another sigh. “Everybody only has to get as naked as they want to be,” he says firmly. “You just wanna get your pants open so he can get a hand in there, that's fine. You don't even wanna do that, that's cool too. Nobody's doing anything unless everybody's cool with it.”</p>
<p>Chilton looks warily at Rich again. “You're just talking about him and me. What about you?”</p>
<p>Rich raises his hands, hiding the sting of that suspicion, how tired it makes him. “Hey, I'm over here.” He grabs Chuck's desk chair and plops down in it, on the other side of the cube from the sleeping  pad.</p>
<p>“Yeah, he’s just, y’know, offering advice or whatever,” Chuck says, blinking at Chilton.</p>
<p>“I thought you said ‘threesome’, though,” Chilton says with a frown.</p>
<p>“Well, <em>yeah</em>, I mean he’s right there watching!” Chuck squeaks, going pink. “So even if his dick isn’t out, he’s still, that’s still pretty…”</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Rich breaks in, “but anyway, I'm just here to help. I’m only gonna be as involved as you guys agree on. Think of me as your friendly sex lifeguard,” he says, babbling a little in hopes of getting that mistrustful look off Chilton's face. “I'll dive in if it looks like someone's drowning, or, I guess, needs mouth to mouth.” Wow, that metaphor isn't nearly as helpful as he meant it to be. Chuck snorts and groans and Rich grimaces, wondering if he should make what's sure to be an even more awkward apology, when Chilton abruptly lets out a short, startled laugh.</p>
<p>“Okay,” he says, shoulders losing some of their rigidity. “Okay, cool.” And he steps forward, puts a hand on Chuck's cheek, and pulls him into a kiss. Chuck makes a startled noise and then moans into it, arms going around Chilton as the guy leans into him to grind their hips together. Despite his desperation, Chilton's quiet, only his hard breathing giving him away.</p>
<p>Rich watches them a minute before looking away. So, they were boyfriends before Chuck got wiped, and Chilton is still in love, and Chuck… cares for the guy, yeah, and is also crushing on him, reasonably enough, but it's not the same thing. That's… awkward. And Rich's presence is even more so, as he's getting more aware by the second.</p>
<p>Chilton breaks the kiss, gasping. “Please,” he says unsteadily, pressing himself against Chuck, hips shuddering.</p>
<p>“Okay!” Chuck squeaks. “What, uh, should I--do you--”</p>
<p>“Give him a hand, baby boy,” Rich sighs. “Come on, you know how to do that.”</p>
<p>“Can you <em>not</em> call me that right now?” Chuck growls, and Rich snickers. “And anyway, is that--enough? It seems like--”</p>
<p>“Man, he needs to get off <em>now</em>,” Rich says, “and this doesn’t seem like a one-and-done deal; he's probably gonna keep needing it for a while. Keep it straightforward for now, you can get fancy later if you want.”</p>
<p>Chuck huffs at him, cheeks reddening, but slides a hand down to cup the strained front of Chilton's shorts. Chilton groans through his teeth.</p>
<p>“Okay,” Chuck says breathlessly, “here, sit down, dude, and get your--let me--” he stumbles over words while Chilton drops obediently to sit on the sleeping pad, but fortunately Chilton gets it anyway and pulls open his shorts.</p>
<p>Normal PRTs wear underwear, even if it's cute sexy stuff. Apparently Kane prefers easy access, Rich thinks sickly, because it's just Chilton under the tiny shorts, his dick hard and slick and flushed dark red. Chuck gives it a wide-eyed look and licks his lips, reaches out cautiously to wrap his hand around it, and a sound like a fragment of a moan escapes Chilton.</p>
<p>Chuck moans back a good deal louder, strokes once, and gives in to his complete inability to keep from putting things in his mouth, which Rich admits to appreciating. Chilton seems to appreciate it too, judging by the hitching gasps he's letting out. And then he's shaking, curling forward over Chuck's head in his lap as Chuck makes a startled choked noise. Chuck's good with his mouth, but not <em>that</em> good--but that's right, Chilton's been waiting for a hella long time, poor guy. No surprise he'd go off quick at this point.</p>
<p>Chuck straightens up a minute later, and Chilton collapses against him, face buried in Chuck's shoulder, clinging. Chuck puts his arms around the guy, shooting Rich a dismayed look, and tentatively strokes Chilton's short hair. Chilton sighs and seems to relax some, even if he doesn't peel himself away.</p>
<p>“Mikey?” Chuck says. “You okay?”</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Chilton mumbles. “Sorry, just. Whoof. 'S a lot.”</p>
<p>“It's okay,” Chuck says. “It's fine, you're good.” He keeps stroking Chilton's hair, and Chilton seems content to half-lie in his lap and be petted.</p>
<p>Rich has no objection to them cuddling as long as they want, but his dick is hard enough now to be feeling strangled in his pants. He shifts in his chair, trying futilely to get a little space in there, and Chuck glances over at him--at the bulge in his pants, to be specific--realizes Rich caught him looking, and hastily looks away, going pink. It's heartening that he's got Mike Chilton in his lap and he's still interested in Rich, but it doesn't help Rich's situation any. The opposite, actually, because his dick is an idiot and thinks someone looking at it means good things.</p>
<p>He tries to get his zipper down as quietly as possible, but it's not enough. Chilton glances over and goes frozen-still.</p>
<p>“Mikey, hey,” Chuck murmurs, ruffling his hair. “It's okay, dude.”</p>
<p>Sitting up, Chilton doesn't untense or look away from Rich, and the hard set to his jaw, the desperate wariness in his eyes makes Rich's stomach twist into a sick knot.</p>
<p>“Man, no,” he says, raising both hands. “I'm not--look, I'm not moving, okay? I'm staying right here in my chair, I'm not waving my dick at <em>you</em>, I'm just trying to keep it from getting gangrene from having all the circulation cut off.”</p>
<p>Chilton relaxes slightly, but his face is still watchful, eyes searching Rich's face.</p>
<p>Chuck pats his shoulder uncertainly. “Honestly, bro, he's cool.” </p>
<p>“Chilton, seriously--” Rich tries.</p>
<p>“Can you <em>not</em> call me that?” Chilton says, twitching. “It's Mike.”</p>
<p>Oh. Shit. Rich wasn't trying to be <em>rude</em>, he was just--he doesn't know the guy, it seemed presumptuous or something to call him Mike. Now it seems like <em>that</em> was rude, and he's offended, and Rich's face is catching fire, the tide of hot embarrassment sweeping across his body. Hopefully Chilton won't notice Rich's arms turning red.</p>
<p>“Mike.” At least his voice is only slightly strangled. “Right, sorry. Um. I just. I was, I--I'm not gonna <em>touch</em> you, man!” he bursts out. “I'm not like Kane! <em>Or</em> any of his dickhead execs! I'm here because Chuck asked me, but if I'm just freaking you out I'll leave, okay, I can go!”</p>
<p>Chilton's--<em>Mike's</em>--eyes widen, his hard, wary expression softens, but before he can say anything, Chuck says in dawning suspicion, “Kane and his execs?”</p>
<p>Mike winces and gives him a pleading look. “Don't worry about it, buddy,” he says in a low voice, “just, can we… focus on this? Us, now?”</p>
<p>Chuck bares his teeth and rakes a furious hand through the blond fuzz of his hair, then breathes out in a hiss. “Fine. Fine! I'm gonna freakin’... delete all the porn in the executive cloud.”</p>
<p>Mike drops his head and chuckles softly. “Fine by me,” he says. Then he looks back at Rich, and this time his face doesn't go closed and wary, but rueful and a lot friendlier. “Sorry,” he tells Rich. “I didn't mean to be a jerk, I just…” he shrugs and grimaces. “You've been cool, you're fine.”</p>
<p>Rich jitters uncertainly before twitching a shoulder and his head in a shrug-nod. He's not sure he has any right to accept an apology from Mike, but refusing it risks even more awkward conversation, which Rich is so not up for.</p>
<p>“So, um, I can go,” he repeats, “leave you guys to it. Yeah?”</p>
<p>Mike looks at Chuck, whose eyes are wide and nervous. Chuck darts a look at Rich, and says in a high voice, “If you want, Mikey, that's cool, I'll be fine!” Then he takes a breath and says more firmly, “The only one who should be nervous here is me, so. If you want him to go, he should go.”</p>
<p>Mike's rueful smile comes back, sweet and fond this time. “I'm fine. If he makes you feel better, Chuckles, he can stay.”</p>
<p>Chuck turns pink, but crosses his arms stubbornly. “I'm serious, dude, I don't want--”</p>
<p>Mike leans in and kisses him in the middle of a word, and Chuck squeaks. “I know, buddy,” Mike says, pulling back. “So'm I. Besides,” he glances sidelong at Rich, back at Chuck to say, “you… like him, right?”</p>
<p>Chuck's flush darkens and he freezes up, wide-eyed and uncertain and guilty-looking, hands pulled close to his chest. In the midst of being quietly pleased that Chuck <em>does</em>, Rich abruptly realizes that if Chuck and Mike were boyfriends, they might be supposed to be exclusive. Mike can't reasonably be mad at Chuck for being into other people when he didn't even know he was in a relationship, but… people aren't always reasonable about this stuff.</p>
<p>And Chuck is in no state to speak up for himself, so. “It’s not like that,” Rich says, shrugging. “We just, y’know, helped each other out sometimes.”</p>
<p>Mike looks distinctly skeptical. “You said you guys did more than that.”</p>
<p>“Okay, yeah,” Rich fumbles, “but like, not--it wasn't serious, okay? I'm not, um, competition.”</p>
<p>Mike eyes him while Rich sweats. He doesn't want Mike Chilton thinking Rich is standing in the way of--anything, honestly, very much including a serious relationship with his boyfriend.</p>
<p>“Yeah, I get it,” Mike says after an eternal second, smiling as he glances back at Chuck, who's still flushed and now staring fixedly at his knees. “When a guy this hot is interested in you, how the heck are you supposed to turn that down, right?”</p>
<p>“Yeah, pretty much,” Rich has to agree.</p>
<p>“What?” Chuck squawks. “No?! That's not how <em>anything</em> went, I was a complete disaster!”</p>
<p>“With a nice butt and a <em>great</em> mouth,” Rich says, one eye on Mike.</p>
<p>Mike just grins happily, though, as Chuck bites off a curse and sputters, red-faced and giving Rich a weirdly surprised look.</p>
<p>“He's <em>really</em> good with his mouth, isn't he?” Mike says.</p>
<p>“He seriously is, it's a talent,” Rich says. He has to raise his voice over the incoherent protests from Chuck, now hiding behind his hands. “And he makes great noises.”</p>
<p>“<em>Oh my god</em>,” Chuck wails.</p>
<p>Mike's grin at Chuck is hot and a little wicked. “My favorite is the little squeaky sound the first time you touch his chest.”</p>
<p>Chuck makes a quiet wavery noise, peering through his spread fingers at Mike in startlement. His ears are the red of an alarm screen.</p>
<p>“Oh yeah?” Rich says. “I don't know that one.”</p>
<p>Mike blinks at him. “Oh, you didn't do that?”</p>
<p>“Mikeyyy!” Chuck whimpers.</p>
<p>“He didn't mention it, so no,” Rich says.</p>
<p>“Oh yeah, he wouldn't,” Mike says. “He’s embarrassed about liking it, for some reason.”</p>
<p>“Oh <em>gee</em>,” Chuck yelps, “I wonder why!”</p>
<p>“Well, yeah,” Rich drawls. “If it feels good, why not?”</p>
<p>“Fu-uhh--screw you!” Chuck says.</p>
<p>“Aw, Chuckles!” Mike says, grinning again. “Does that mean you don't want me to show him?”</p>
<p>Chuck's jaw drops and he gapes at Mike. His eyes flicker over to Rich and back to Mike, and he gets redder and redder, but he doesn't seem to have anything to say.</p>
<p>Just the idea has Rich's dick very interested, though, which has only gotten more uncomfortable. He hisses softly, shifting, and grimaces when Mike glances over.</p>
<p>“Sorry. Um. Is it okay if I--”</p>
<p>“Oh geez, yeah!” Mike says. “Go ahead, dude, it's fine.” He shrugs, awkward suddenly. “Sorry I was weird about it.”</p>
<p>“You weren't <em>weird</em>, man,” Rich says, shoving pants and briefs off his hips and working them carefully down his thighs. “You've just kinda… got some stuff to deal with. We know about that around here.”</p>
<p>Mike looks briefly dubious, but then Rich finally frees his dick from his pants leg with a sigh of relief, and Mike's eyes go round. Rich gives him an uncertain smile, hoping he's not about to veer back into distrust, and Mike twitches a startled smile back, looking from Rich's face to his dick, and then suddenly away as Mike remembers himself.</p>
<p>“Sorry!” he says, cheeks flushing, and carefully keeps his eyes averted. “Um.”</p>
<p>Chuck recovers from his flustered paralysis enough to snort. “Anton says a warning should go off when his pants open,” he tells Mike. “'Ultra-Golem approaching, take cover!’”</p>
<p>“Anton can stuff it,” Rich mutters, face heating. “He's just mad it's taller than he is.”</p>
<p>Chuck's snicker changes to a high, nervous giggle when Mike's amused look goes very focused on him all of a sudden. “So, Chuckles,” Mike says. “You wanna take off your shirt?”</p>
<p>“Um!” Chuck squeaks. “I… guess? Are you?”</p>
<p>Mike bites his lip, then shrugs. “Sure,” he says, at the same moment as Chuck says, “I mean you don't have to! It's fine if--”</p>
<p>“No, I will,” Mike says firmly over him. “Just. Be cool, okay?”</p>
<p>Rich isn't sure what he means, although Chuck's lips tighten before he nods. Mike opens the little PRT vest, slipping it down his arms and off over the thin cuffs on his wrists to set it on the floor next to where he's sitting, but Rich is fixed staring.</p>
<p>He was wondering why the guy was so reluctant to take the vest off when it only covers most of his pecs, but now Rich gets it. Mike's chest is a blue-purple-black mess of bruises concentrated around and across his nipples, and what looks like a bruised-in ring of toothmarks around one.</p>
<p>Rich swallows hard and looks away, forcing back the thought of how he got all those, what it'd be like to be trapped and hurt and <em>hurt</em>, with no escape. Any techie knows Kane isn't benevolent, is to be feared, but Rich is getting <em>really</em> clear tonight that he's not just dangerous and cruel, he's a sick, spiteful bastard too.</p>
<p>Rich can't think about that right now. He packs it away for later, focuses on the present.</p>
<p>Chuck is staring at Mike's chest, too, lips pressed together, looking furious and sick. He drags in a shaking breath, but before he can speak Mike says tiredly, “You said you'd be cool.”</p>
<p>“I'm not swearing a blue streak, am I?” Chuck says, voice tight, and draws another breath. “Just--tell me one thing, bro.”</p>
<p>“No promises,” Mike says.</p>
<p>“Please, dude, just--were we together <em>before</em> you got demoted to this,” Chuck waves a hand at the PRT outfit, “or... since?”</p>
<p>Mike blinks, face going from tight to confused. He opens his mouth, hesitates, and shoots Rich an uncertain look.</p>
<p>Rich doesn't know if he's unsure because the question doesn't quite map to what really happened or because he's worried answering it could trigger Chuck's brain burn. It's fine, either way, Rich knows this one.</p>
<p>“It was after you left the Cadets,” he says carefully, “but before the PRT thing, right? Like, a long time before.”</p>
<p>Mike nods, looking relieved. “Yeah, most of two years before… this. This is, um, pretty recent,” he says, glancing back at Rich to check that was okay, and Rich nods reassurance.</p>
<p>“<em>Recent</em>, thank fuhh-okay,” Chuck says, sighing, and rubs his hands over his face. “That’s something, anyway.”</p>
<p>Oh, man, Chuck must have been afraid Mike had been dealing with this for <em>years</em>. It didn't even occur to Rich, but of course Chuck doesn't know the timeline, doesn't know they both only recently got captured. Rich isn't sure why the timing of when they got together would make a difference, though, unless Chuck wanted to make sure he'd gotten first dibs on Mike--</p>
<p><em>Oh</em>. Oh shit. Cadets don't do sex. Rich has heard their libidos are chemically suppressed, supposedly so they'll put all their energy into the fight against Motorcity. Chuck was afraid they hadn't hooked up first, and Mike had gone straight from being a virgin cadet to <em>this</em>. That's… yeah, this is already fucked up, but that'd be worse.</p>
<p>Chuck gives Mike a hard look, eyes flickering over his bruised chest. “Kane, huh?”</p>
<p>Mike looks away, face closing. “We're not talking about that.”</p>
<p>Chuck glares at him, and Rich can see it's driving him crazy seeing in full how fucked up Mike's situation is, but taking it out on Mike is the dumbest possible option. “Guys,” Rich sighs, “come on, don't be ff-freaking idiots. Chuck, Raoul's fixing it, remember?”</p>
<p>Chuck just glares at Rich, too, but Mike sighs and shifts his shoulders like he's trying to shake off the mood. “He's right,” he says quietly to Chuck. “And look, Kane screwed you up too, okay? I'm not the only one, here.”</p>
<p>“Not like this!” Chuck says, gesturing sharply at Mike's--everything.</p>
<p>“No,” Mike says, eyes narrowing, “he only stole a chunk of your <em>life</em>, Chuck! No big deal, right?!”</p>
<p>“I <em>know!</em>” Chuck snarls, and Rich rolls his eyes up to the ceiling. If <em>he</em> had a hot boyfriend with some kind of aphrodisiac drug going on, who wanted to demonstrate how to make Rich feel good enough to make fun noises, he wouldn't be wasting time arguing over how much things sucked.</p>
<p>Granted, they <em>do</em> suck pretty bad. Rich has been avoiding thinking about Chuck's situation as much as possible, though, because there's nothing to be done and nothing to gain by dwelling on it. Now, when his dick is already listing sadly towards his leg with dwindling hope that any sex will be happening, is not the time for deeply disturbing thoughts.</p>
<p>Chuck is sitting with his arms crossed, scowling off to one side. Mike's face is tight, his brows drawn as he stares out at an angle through the door of the cubicle. Rich's stomach does an odd twist and ripple, half discomfort and half reluctant heat, to see that despite Mike's tense unhappiness, he's hard again.</p>
<p>“Seriously, guys?” Rich says. “Are you really gonna be mad at each other because things suck? Because that's incredibly stupid. Baby boy, I thought you were smarter than that.”</p>
<p>“Shut up, Rich!” Chuck snaps.</p>
<p>“Uh, <em>no</em>,” Rich says, crossing his own arms, which, despite Chuck's new muscle, are significantly thicker than his. “You wanted me in here to keep you from doing anything dumb. Here I am, telling you: this is dumb. Quit it. Stop being a dick and kiss your hot boyfriend.”</p>
<p>Chuck turns bright red at that and squeaks, “Ff-screw you!” but glances sideways at Mike anyway, like he's been reminded exactly how sexy the guy is.</p>
<p>Mike catches the gaze and stares gravely back, and Chuck bites his lip and looks away. “Okay,” he bursts out after a minute, “I'm <em>sorry</em>, okay? I just--I hate him! I hate this! It <em>sucks!</em>”</p>
<p>“I hadn't noticed,” Mike says dryly, but the tension's ebbing out of him, and when Chuck huffs at him, he smiles. “Can we… can we just enjoy this now? Stop talking about the other stuff?”</p>
<p>Chuck nibbles on his lip, watching Mike, and sighs, nodding. “Yeah, okay.”</p>
<p>“Thanks, dude,” Mike says, and leans in for a kiss.</p>
<p>Rich hasn't kissed Chuck since shortly after the guy's sixteenth birthday, and he can't help wondering how much better he's gotten at it since. Mike is good, for sure, judging by the way Chuck moans, but Rich is almost certainly not going to get a chance to find that one out for himself.</p>
<p>“You were gonna take your shirt off,” Mike says.</p>
<p>Chuck licks his lips, eyes on Mike's dick, and nods, tugging it off over his head and dropping it beside the sleeping pad.</p>
<p>“God, you're so sexy,” Mike breathes.</p>
<p>“Oh my god, bro, I'm so not!” Chuck says. “I've got all these weird scars!”</p>
<p>Mike blinks. “So? I've got more,” he points out, which leaves Chuck open-mouthed and scrambling for a retort.</p>
<p>“You're both sexy,” Rich contributes. “Deal with it.”</p>
<p>Mike looks startled for some reason and laughs. Chuck tries to huff at Rich, but is blushing too hard to successfully meet his eyes.</p>
<p>“Whatever,” Chuck mumbles, “<em>anyway</em>. Can, um, can I help you with that, dude?” He's focused on Mike's dick again.</p>
<p>“Only if I get to touch you too,” Mike says.</p>
<p>Chuck giggles nervously. “Right, cuz I'm gonna turn <em>that</em> down.”</p>
<p>“Cool,” Mike says, and scrambles into Chuck's lap to kiss him again, one hand on his chest. Chuck's startled noise is muffled by the kiss, and it's only a moment before his hand slides down to wrap cautiously around Mike's dick. Mike's hips jerk and he moans, breaking off the kiss to pant.</p>
<p>Rich blows out a hard breath and puts a hand on his own dick, which is perking up enthusiastically now sex is happening after all. He teases under the head and watches Mike rock up into Chuck's hand, clinging to his shoulders, watches Chuck's flushed face and wide blue eyes on Mike. It takes longer, this time, but still not very long before Mike comes. Rich is going to put that down to the drug rather than assume the guy's got no stamina.</p>
<p>Mike slumps against Chuck, nuzzling dazedly at his neck, which makes him squeak and gasp. Rich glances around, pulls open a likely looking drawer, finds and tosses over the box of hygiene wipes, which in Chuck's cubicle are solely for this purpose. When Rich is deep in a project with the deadline looming up and no time to shower, he'll occasionally use the wipes for a quick sponge bath, and they're effective at reducing the stink. Chuck just works straight through, completely oblivious to his stench, and then drifts off to the showers when he's finished, half-asleep and barely coherent in a cloud of BO.</p>
<p>...Or at least, that's what he did when he was younger. He hasn't been on any tight deadlines since coming back, so Rich doesn't know if his habits have changed. That's a weird and uneasy thought, attached to a load of other ones Rich is avoiding for now, so he pushes it away with the rest.</p>
<p>When Mike's finished cleaning up, he smiles at Chuck, all hungry interest, and leans forward to lay a kiss on one pale collarbone. Chuck makes a little breathy noise, looking stunned. Mike glances sideways at Rich, grinning, and puts a hand on Chuck's chest, brushing a thumb over one nipple. It gets a gasping whimper out of Chuck that makes Rich bite his lip, eyebrows arching high. His hand tightens on his dick, squeezing and stroking.</p>
<p>“Holy shhh-wow,” he says. “Sensitive, huh?”</p>
<p>“Oh my god shut <em>up</em>,” Chuck groans, red-faced.</p>
<p>“Great, isn't it?” Mike says with another glowing look at Chuck. “It's so sexy.”</p>
<p>“It is <em>not!</em>” Chuck protests. “It's dumb and weird!”</p>
<p>Mike pauses, blinking. “Oh,” he says, sounding funny. “Huh. I--yeah, you thought that, at first. It took me a while to get you to believe me. I… forgot.”</p>
<p>Rich isn't sure if he means he forgot Chuck used to be like that, or forgot he'd be like that now, having had the intervening experiences wiped away. Maybe both. It sucks, anyway.</p>
<p>“Sorry, bro,” Chuck mumbles. He hesitates before leaning in and kissing Mike like he's hoping to make up for it. Mike hums into it, and he smiles when Chuck pulls back, so apparently it worked.</p>
<p>“So,” Mike says, “can I try some stuff, or is that gonna be weird? What's okay?”</p>
<p>“What stuff?” Chuck says nervously. “You like weird stuff?”</p>
<p>Mike snorts a laugh. “No, dude,” he says, grinning. “I mean, I know what you like. Is that gonna be weird for you, if I do that?”</p>
<p>“Uh,” Chuck says, still looking nervy. “No? Maybe? Like what?”</p>
<p>Mike's smile gentles. “Hey,” he says, cupping the side of Chuck's face and stroking a thumb across his cheek, “relax, babe. I just wanna make you feel good, okay? Maybe get my mouth on you, mark you up some.” He shrugs. “Maybe finger you while I jerk you off, if you're okay with that.”</p>
<p>Chuck makes a strangled noise. His face has passed scarlet and turned something more like burgundy.</p>
<p>Exercising considerable willpower, Rich keeps himself from saying <em>Hell yes, do it!</em> It sounds like a great show, but pointing this out might cause Chuck to dissolve into a puddle of mortification, and that would seriously hamper the sex process, plus Mike might get annoyed, and Rich has a vested interest in not annoying Mike Chilton.</p>
<p>“<em>Oh my god,</em>” Chuck moans, burying his face in his hands.</p>
<p>Of course, as demonstrated, Chuck is also completely capable of dissolving all by himself with no further input needed. Rich keeps his sigh silent and teases his dick some more. He's getting to the point where that's not gonna be enough, but he's not sure if Mike's okay with Rich getting off here or not, and the idea of forcing someone in this very small cubicle to try to ignore what Rich is doing is <em>deeply</em> unappealing. He's just going to have to deal until there comes an opportune time to sneak out, or if all else fails, ask if it's okay to take care of it.</p>
<p>Mike laughs a little, patting Chuck's shoulder. “Chuckles, come on, you don't have to be embarrassed--oh.” He glances over at Rich, back at Chuck and lowers his voice. Rich can still hear him, of course, but whatever, it's not like he had any illusions about Mike wanting him here.</p>
<p>“You want him to go?” Mike murmurs.</p>
<p>At least it gets Chuck to take his hands off his face so he can throw them in the air with an inarticulate noise. “Yes! No! <em>I</em> don't know! I'm gonna screw everything up horribly without someone else keeping on eye on things, but--”</p>
<p>“Dude, I keep telling you, <em>I</em> can keep an eye on you!” Mike says. “I know what you like, I can show you how to do stuff, whatever!”</p>
<p>Chuck crosses his arms over his bare chest, glaring at Mike. “Yeah? <em>You're</em> gonna keep an eye on if I'm about to hurt you or scare you or something?”</p>
<p>Mike's smile crimps and twists, but he shrugs. “I mean, who better?”</p>
<p>“Um, <em>anyone?</em>” Chuck says. “Unless you've morphed into someone <em>completely different</em>, Mikey, you've never been careful with yourself a day in your life!”</p>
<p>Mike looks annoyed, but Rich notices he doesn't have an immediate retort.</p>
<p>“Heck, if you're infamous or whatever, I bet even Rich knows the kind of crazy stuff you do!” Chuck adds.</p>
<p>Rich considers some of the stunts he's seen Mike pull in the footage of Deluxe fights, driving his car at insane speeds, jumping it from one pod's roof to the next--on one memorable occasion, jumping out of his falling car onto the roof of a moving pod that was not at <em>all</em> close to the ground--and has to nod. Mike narrows his eyes at him and turns back to Chuck.</p>
<p>“Okay, well, I'll try really hard, okay? Anyway, you're more worried about it than I am, I think you'll notice if anything happens. If that's the only reason for him to stay, and you also kind of want him to go, I think he should go, dude.”</p>
<p>And instead of mumbling any kind of protest, like Rich was stupidly hoping, Chuck hesitates, eyeing him sideways. So, that's enough, thanks. If the guy who <em>wanted</em> him here isn't sure why anymore, Rich is out.</p>
<p>He bites down on the dumb hurt and the resultant spike of temper as hard as he can. This is a weird situation all around, it's not like he's dealt with it that gracefully either, and <em>he</em> hasn't lost three years of emotional development. It's not fair to get pissy at Chuck when the guy's handling a lot right now.</p>
<p>“Hey,” Rich says, with a jerky half-shrug, “not like this was my idea in the first place.” He stands up and starts trying to wedge his dick back into his pants. Maybe if he presses it against his belly and closes his pants over it, he can tug his shirt down and it'll hide the tip…</p>
<p>“It seemed like you were enjoying it pretty well,” Chuck mumbles, looking down, and the half-accusation is too much.</p>
<p>“Oh, excuse me,” Rich snaps, “was I not <em>supposed</em> to be? Sorry if I didn't get the memo with you being all ‘come help me have sex with my boyfriend’! I guess I <em>presumed</em>--”</p>
<p>“Dude! No!” Chuck half-yelps, waving his arms. “That's not--I didn't mean--oh my god I'm screwing up <em>everything</em>,” he finishes in a groan, and wraps his arms around his head.</p>
<p>Mike shoots Rich a frown and pats Chuck helplessly on the shoulder. Defiance and sullen resentment flare up in Rich at that look, then gutter out again as guilt edges in. He sighs, winces as he buttons his pants over his hard-on.</p>
<p>“It's fine, man,” he tells Chuck, and straightens his shirt over his complaining dick. “Just chill, I'm going.”</p>
<p>“God,” Chuck moans. “You're never gonna let me live <em>any</em> of this down, are you.”</p>
<p>That stops Rich in his tracks. “What?” he says blankly.</p>
<p>“This! All of this!” Chuck says, waving a hand around at the cubicle. “Being a, a virginal little wimp!”</p>
<p>Mike gives Rich a decidedly unfriendly look, but Rich is preoccupied trying to figure out <em>what the fuck</em>.</p>
<p>“I don't,” he starts, and tries again, “Are you saying--”</p>
<p>“He's saying he's not looking forward to you <em>ragging</em> on him about this!” Mike says in a hard voice.</p>
<p>“I wouldn't!” Rich protests.</p>
<p>Chuck snorts, then frowns at him, startled and dubious. “Wait, are you serious?”</p>
<p>“<em>Yes</em>,” Rich says in exasperation, “I'm not--oh,” he breaks off as realization kicks him in the teeth.</p>
<p>Chuck has lost three years. Three years ago, Rich was <em>just</em> emerging from his dickish stage. Given that he started as an intern at sixteen when Chuck had already been there for months at <em>thirteen</em>, serving to make young Rich feel incredibly insecure and inadequate, Chuck got the brunt of said dickishness. He had a couple years to learn to give as good as he got, and then Rich realized being cool instead of harassing Chuck mercilessly about every fucking thing would get him more interested in hanging out with Rich. So he scraped together the courage to <em>apologize</em> for having been a dick, and after a few weeks of good behavior, Chuck realized he meant it. Coincidentally and to Rich's shock, not long after that, Chuck awkwardly made the move that resulted in him riding Rich's dick for the first time, instead of trading the usual casual handjobs. (And as thrilled as Chuck transparently was when Rich said yes, Rich was probably even more amazed, since Chuck was only the second guy to want to attempt it.)</p>
<p>...And he's forgotten that incident, which means he may have forgotten a lot of the changes that led up to it. Rich thinks he's been pretty easy-going the weeks since Chuck came back, but Chuck obviously thinks the temptation of… all this… is going to be too much to ignore.</p>
<p>Rich puts a hand in his hair, massaging his scalp distractedly with spread fingertips. How is he supposed to explain this? Will Chuck even believe him if he tries?</p>
<p>Probably the right thing to do is just--go, leave them to it, sort this out later with Chuck, but Rich can't yet. It stings too much that Chuck has forgotten he actually started to trust Rich back then and even aside from all the teenage relationship confusion they were <em>cool</em>.</p>
<p>Inhaling, Rich says to Chuck as calmly as he can in the face of two suspicious looks, “I wouldn't give you a hard time about any of this stuff, man. That'd be, just… seriously dickish behavior, and I don't, I'm not--I <em>grew up</em>, okay?!” Okay, he's not exactly supporting his own point, there; so much for calm. Time to go.</p>
<p>He turns for the door and Chuck says, “Wait, okay so then, you don't have to go!”</p>
<p>Rich turns back to stare at him.</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Mike says, “but if you're gonna be more comfortable without him--”</p>
<p>Chuck waves his hands, red-faced and not meeting anyone's eyes. “It's fine! I'm fine!”</p>
<p>Rich crosses his arms, frowning. He thinks he can decipher that response, but it's a guess, and this whole thing is messy enough without adding more chances for things to bite them in the ass later.</p>
<p>“I'm gonna need a little more than that, man,” he says. “It seemed like you were gonna be embarrassed to have me here watching you guys, so--”</p>
<p>“Not if you're gonna, like, be <em>cool</em> about it,” Chuck says in a rush, still without looking Rich in the face. “I thought, um, I didn't wanna, if you were gonna--but you're not, so!”</p>
<p>“So, you'll <em>deal</em>, if I stick around, or so you <em>want</em> me to stay?” Rich presses.</p>
<p>“Oh my god, are you seriously gonna make me say it?” Chuck groans, and Rich sets his teeth to keep from snarling at him.</p>
<p>“No, dude,” Mike says unexpectedly to Chuck, “he's got a right, at this point. We've been jerking him around, and he's only tried to help.” He smiles ruefully at Rich, but his eyes are considering. Rich twitches an uncertain smile in return and looks hastily back to Chuck.</p>
<p>“<em>Agh</em>,” Chuck says, hiding behind his hands. “Fine, yes, I want you to stay, you obnoxiously hot jerk!”</p>
<p>Rich has also grown out of being bewildered and discomforted every time someone calls him hot, so instead of flinching and arguing, he just viciously fuzzes Chuck's velvet-short hair so Chuck makes a complaining noise and bats at his hand. “Okay,” Rich says, equal parts relieved and tired, and sits down again. And hastily gets his pants open again, because <em>ow</em>.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Mike is starting to look flushed and distracted again, eyes sliding back to Chuck easier than he can look away, but he manages to focus on Rich again long enough to blink at his reddened and frustrated dick as if realizing something. “Oh, hang on,” he says, and tugs at his open shorts to dig in a tiny pocket. “Here,” and he tosses something small at Rich.</p><p>Rich catches it. It's a packet of lube. “Uh!” he says. “Is, are you okay with me… doing that?”</p><p>“Yeah?” Mike says, somewhat muffled as he nuzzles Chuck's neck. “I mean, you don't wanna sit there with it for the next hour, unless you <em>like</em> it that way, I guess--” he pulls back and grins at Chuck meaningfully and Chuck lets out a stifled squeak and turns red, looking shocked, alarmed and intrigued. Mike spares Rich another flicker of a glance and finishes, “So yeah, dude, you can take care of that, it's cool,” before he fastens his mouth to Chuck's collarbone and stops talking.</p><p>Rich isn't about to argue. He rips the lube open and slicks up, listening to Chuck moan and gasp and squeak as Mike trails hickies down his chest. Mike's hips are starting to rock and shiver, and Chuck takes a minute to nerve himself up before he grabs Mike's hard, dripping dick. Mike groans softly and pulls back to claw at the waist of Chuck's pants, pulling them open and shoving his hand in. Chuck's moan is a lot higher and louder.</p><p>“I'm gonna make you feel so good, babe,” Mike says, low and husky. “I'm gonna get you loud and moving and wanting it and then I'm gonna <em>stop</em>. Make you wait for it. Maybe a few times.”</p><p>Chuck makes this amazing cracked whimper and bucks into his hand, and Rich starts stroking off, slumping down in his chair and watching intently.</p><p>“Mikey!” Chuck gasps. “<em>God</em>.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Mike says, and pauses long enough to get another packet of lube and use it on Chuck's dick, at which Chuck squeaks and steals some lube to return the favor. Then Mike bends to get his mouth on Chuck again, sucking marks across his skin, lingering on his nipples, which gets some <em>amazing</em> sounds out of Chuck.</p><p>Rich can't see clearly what's going on with the two of them leaning so close together, but he can tell Chuck's hand is moving much faster on Mike than Mike's is on Chuck, even if Chuck is shivering and twitching so his rhythm keeps going unsteady.</p><p>Chuck keeps rocking up into Mike's grip and whimpering hopefully, and finally pulls it together enough to say, “C’mon, bro, can't, <em>ahh</em>, can you please just--”</p><p>“Not yet,” Mike says, and does something that makes Chuck spasm and whine. Rich huffs out a breath and tightens his grip, strokes faster. “Gonna take it slow, Chuckles,” Mike finishes. “You like it that way.”</p><p>“This is, so unfair,” Chuck gasps. “You know all this--stuff I like, but I don't, I can't, do that stuff for you.”</p><p>Mike looks up at him and licks his lips. “You could stroke my hair some more,” he says.</p><p>Chuck blinks at him and slides his free hand into Mike's chopped-short hair, strokes across and down the back of his head, and Mike gives a soft moan. “Oh,” Chuck says, doing it more, and Mike sighs, his hand hitching and speeding up distractedly on Chuck. For a moment he's almost still, trembling a little, hips rocking, and then he practically lunges forward and kisses Chuck hard.</p><p>Taken off-guard, Chuck's hand slips off Mike’s head to his shoulder, but it doesn't matter; Mike comes a second later, tensing all over, knees spreading.</p><p>Rich breathes out hard and squeezes, getting close but not there yet. Mike shivers and makes low breathy noises as Chuck keeps stroking and finally pulls his hand away. Mike blinks a few times and starts moving the hand on Chuck's dick again, but only for a moment.</p><p>When he stops, Chuck gives a frustrated whine that's somehow both hilarious and <em>ridiculously</em> hot, making Rich's hips twitch up into his hand. Mike laughs softly and Chuck groans at him.</p><p>“Dude! Come <em>on</em> already!”</p><p>“Nope,” Mike says, grinning at him, and then he tips his head at Rich and says, “Anyway, we've gotta show him how hot you are when you've been waiting for ages for it.”</p><p>Chuck catches his breath and whimpers, and Rich rolls his hips again.</p><p>“Can we get your pants off?” Mike asks, and Chuck's head ducks as he makes a little uncertain noise. He glances sideways at Rich, and Rich is afraid it's the return of the <em>not in front of Rich</em> thing, but then he realizes Chuck is staring at Rich's dick.</p><p>“Yeah, okay,” Chuck says, licking his lips before finally looking away, and Rich's head rolls back on his neck at the flash of pink tongue. God, he's getting close.</p><p>Chuck gets naked and Mike hums, eyes heavy-lidded and hot as they sweep over him. “Heck yeah,” Mike says softly, and the careful language ought to sound dumb, but with that look on his face, the hunger in his voice, it doesn't at all.</p><p>“Down on your back, babe,” he adds, and Chuck catches his breath, swallowing visibly, and obeys. He's flushed down to his chest, dick hard and red and slick, and his long limbs are stiff with self-consciousness, his eyes darting from Mike to Rich to the ceiling. He's obviously still shy about being stared at naked by two people, no matter how hot he thinks they are. It's damn cute.</p><p>“That's good,” Mike says. “God, you're so sexy,” and he drops his mouth to Chuck's chest, nuzzling a nipple so Chuck squirms and whimpers. Rich bites short a low groan.</p><p>Speaking without lifting his head, so Chuck gasps again, Mike says, “So, this okay?” His arm moves and Rich realizes Mike's got a hand between Chuck's thighs now.</p><p>Chuck squeaks. “Yeah,” he says, high-pitched but not enough to be reluctant, Rich thinks.</p><p>“Yeah?” Mike says. “You, uh, done this at all, that you remember?”</p><p>“No,” Chuck says, “but it doesn't matter, does it? Because we obviously did it, whether I remember or not!”</p><p>“Well, yeah,” Mike admits, lifting his head, “but--”</p><p>“Mikey, I don't care!” Chuck groans. “Just do it, I already said I wanted to!”</p><p>Mike laughs. “Well, okay, cool,” he says, and sits up to slick his fingers.</p><p>When he slides the first one in, Chuck makes this breathy little sound that has Rich's eyes rolling back in his head. <em>Fuck</em> that's hot. A couple breaths later Mike must hit the right spot, because Chuck moans all throaty and amazed as his hips jerk, his bent legs spreading wider, and Rich tips over the edge flashing on sinking into him, the distant memory of Chuck hot and tight around his dick, gasping and moaning.</p><p>It takes a while to get his eyes open again when he's finished, and he might not have bothered yet except that Chuck is making amazing little whimpering sounds, and Rich has to see how he looks when he makes that noise. Flushed and wide-eyed and amazed, it turns out, and Mike is working him open slow and careful with this look on his face like--like he could look at Chuck for the rest of his life and be happy, like Chuck matters more than anything else to him.</p><p>Rich didn't need another reminder that he's on the outside looking in at the two of them, but there it is anyway. It's fine, he knew that.</p><p>Chuck is staring up at the ceiling like it's got revelations for him, hips rolling and shifting into what Mike's doing, fingers working against the sleeping pad. Mike does something and Chuck catches his breath and makes a hungry noise, eyes dropping to Mike's face. Mike smiles at him, hot and tender and utterly unguarded, and Chuck's eyes go round. He smiles nervously back and snaps his eyes away to the ceiling, going redder and redder, flicks a glance back to Mike like he's checking that he saw right the first time, then looks helplessly over at Rich.</p><p>Because he's a good friend, Rich doesn't put a hand over his eyes and shake his head. He'll admit it <em>could</em> be a shock to find out someone you're crushing on feels that intensely about you, and given Chuck, he's probably worried about messing it up, but why he thinks Rich can help with that, Rich has no idea.</p><p>He gives Chuck a patient ‘man, it's<em> fine’</em> look and Chuck seems to relax a little, and then Mike pauses and goes, “Buddy, you okay?”</p><p>“Don't <em>stop!</em>” Chuck says, with a mix of indignation and dismay that has Rich snorting with laughter.</p><p>Mike laughs too, and says, “Well, I guess if you're <em>sure</em>,” and his arm starts flexing again so Chuck moans.</p><p>Rich stands up, and Mike gives him a brief inquiring glance. “Can I get a--?” Rich says, pointing at the box of hygiene wipes, and Mike fishes one out with his free hand and passes it over. Rich cleans himself up and sits back to watch.</p><p>Mike leans down and gets his mouth on Chuck's chest for a while, which gets an amazing variety of noises, and then he gets his other hand slick and starts stroking Chuck's dick while he fingers him, and Chuck starts moaning full-throated and desperate like Rich remembers him doing when he'd been riding Rich's dick. Rich licks his lips and rubs a hand absently up and down his thigh.</p><p>Chuck gets even louder, high and shaky, and then Mike's hands stop moving all at once. Chuck whines in frustration, hips rolling, and mumbles breathless curses as he shivers still.</p><p>“<em>God</em>,” he gasps, one hand clenching on the fuzz of his hair.</p><p>“Yeah,” Mike says, that soft warm look back in his eyes. “Feels good, doesn't it? I'm not gonna let you come until you're crazy for it, you love that.”</p><p>“Mikey oh my <em>god</em>,” Chuck whimpers.</p><p>“Oh, hey,” Mike says, glancing over at Rich. “Chuckles, maybe you need someone holding you down, yeah?”</p><p>That doesn't even get an answer in words, just an astonished, shivery moan and a round-eyed stare at Rich, who honestly agrees. A hot pulse of interest goes up his spine, but he can't help looking at Mike for confirmation, because--it's a fun thing to <em>talk</em> about, to get Chuck thinking about, but Mike probably doesn't actually want Rich <em>involved</em>, does he?</p><p>Except when Mike glances over and meets his look, he smiles, lifts his eyebrows inquiringly like there's some chance Rich <em>wouldn't</em> want to participate. Rich nods, dry-mouthed, and Mike grins and nods back decisively, tilts his head in summons.</p><p>Rich gets up obediently and goes over to sit by the top of the sleeping pad, grabs both bony wrists and pulls them up over Chuck's head, pinning them to the pad.</p><p>“Oh my god,” Chuck says shakily for about the millionth time.</p><p>“Yeah,” Mike says, voice husky, and bites his lip as he strokes Chuck's dick once, getting a moan. His own dick is definitely ready for more action, but he seems to be ignoring it, focusing on Chuck instead.</p><p>Meanwhile, Chuck can't seem to decide if he wants to stare at Rich holding him down or try uselessly to pretend he's not there. Red in the face, he alternates between flicking little amazed glances back over his head at Rich and closing his eyes or staring at Mike, which in Rich's opinion makes much more sense. It takes a few minutes for Chuck to get impatient enough to stop fixating on the amazing kinky sex he's having and refocus.</p><p>“Dude,” he says to Mike, hips shifting, “come on, I'm not close anymore, can you--keep…?”</p><p>Mike grins. “Yeah, buddy, I got you.” His hands start moving again, and Chuck gets loud fast. His hands twitch and jerk against Rich's hold on his wrists, and Rich is pretty sure that particular shivery moan is in response to being held down, which is hot as fuck, honestly.</p><p>Rich spares Mike an unobtrusive glance every couple minutes, watching as he gets flushed and twitchy and breathes harder, hips jerking and rocking against thin air. He keeps stubbornly ignoring it, though, getting Chuck close and stopping again, smiling at the way he groans and mutters curses. Despite the way Chuck twitches and tugs against Rich's grip, Rich can't help but notice that Chuck isn't struggling that hard, like he's not even that interested in touching himself, just pretending frustration.</p><p>Unlike Mike, who's pretending he doesn't need anything when it looks like his eyes are barely focusing. Rich nibbles on his lip. It'd be weird for him to comment, he's guessing, no matter how obvious it is, but…</p><p>“Bro, come on,” Chuck says, breathless and husky, “don't you need something?”</p><p>Mike shakes his head. “'M fine,” he mumbles, kissing Chuck's knee. “I just, wanna take care of you.”</p><p>Chuck's eyes narrow, and Rich sees the evaluating look he gives Mike, eyes sweeping over all that flushed, bruised skin. Then he rolls his head, lets out a quiet moan as his hips shift down into Mike's hands, and says unsteadily, “So why don't you give me your dick, already?”</p><p>Eyes widening, Mike makes a raspy husk of a noise, hips twitching. “But you're--you don't, um--you want that?”</p><p>“<em>Yes</em>, Mikey!” Chuck says.</p><p>“But you don't--it's like you haven't done it before,” Mike says. “Are you sure--”</p><p>“Except that you <em>have</em>, with me,” Chuck says, “and you know what I like, so come on already!”</p><p>“I was gonna--I can't, y’know, do it right, like this,” Mike says, brows furrowed. “I want it to be good, and…”</p><p>“Man, you're trying to do this teasing edging thing anyway,” Rich puts in. “Don't worry about lasting, you don't want him to come anyway! You can take care of him later, when you're good and ready.”</p><p>Chuck moans, hips rolling like that's a good thought, and Mike gets a glazed look on his face, staring hungrily at Chuck. “Okay,” he says after a minute. “Let's do it.”</p><p>Rich offers a wipe when Mike pulls his fingers out, and Chuck squirms impatiently while Mike uses it and gets a condom out and on. “Cool it, baby boy,” Rich says in amusement, tightening his grip on Chuck's wrists briefly, and Chuck huffs and goes still, watching Mike.</p><p>“Okay,” Mike says, and his hands are shaking as he puts them on the underside of Chuck's thighs, pushing them up to his chest.</p><p>“I can hold his legs if you want,” Rich offers.</p><p>“Yeah, good,” Mike says.</p><p>Rich leans forward and grabs Chuck's legs to hold them up, spreading them wide, and Chuck makes a noise somewhere between <em>incredibly aroused </em>and <em>lethally embarrassed</em> and slaps his newly freed hands over his face.</p><p>“That's okay, buddy,” Mike says breathlessly, “you just--do whatever you need…” He trails off, biting his lip as he starts to push in.</p><p>Chuck tenses up at first, but Mike goes slow and careful, and bit by bit the tension eases out of him until Mike finally starts to thrust. Chuck squirms under him, uncertain, and then Rich pulls his legs up farther, lifting Chuck's hips, and he moans nice and loud as the new angle does the trick.</p><p>“That's it,” Mike pants. “God, you feel so good.”</p><p>“Mikey, fffuh<em>--heck</em>,” Chuck says shakily, and Rich can't help laughing softly at how fucking cute that is.</p><p>Chuck gets a lot louder as Mike speeds up, and judging by how he's writhing, he's starting to get close again by the time Mike comes.</p><p>“Oh my <em>god</em>,” Chuck moans, sounding drunk as Mike slumps over him panting.</p><p>“Yeah?” Rich says, low and hungry. “Feel good, baby boy?”</p><p>“<em>Yeah</em>,” Chuck breathes, “heck yeah.”</p><p>“Good,” Mike gasps, and pulls carefully out. Rich grins at the face Chuck makes, like he's not sure if he's relieved or disappointed by the sudden absence of a dick in him. Letting go of Chuck's legs, Rich leans over to recapture his wrists, which jerk in surprise.</p><p>“Oh!” Chuck says, and squirms, not like he's trying to get away, but too turned on to hold still. Rich pins his wrists together in one hand and eyes Mike, who's dealing with the condom. Rich catches his eye and reaches cautiously towards Chuck's chest with his free hand, and Mike grins and nods emphatically. Rich grins back, thrilled, and starts playing with Chuck's nipples, and Chuck squeaks and wriggles and makes breathless little protesting noises.</p><p>“Rich!” Chuck complains, with his face all flushed. “Cut it--<em>nnh</em>--out, it's so dumb, don't--”</p><p>“Don't make you feel good? Sure, because that makes sense during sex.”</p><p>“Oh my god, sh--<em>nnh</em>--shut up,” Chuck groans, jerking at his pinned hands. “It's lame! You're lame, quit!”</p><p>Rich pulls his hand away from Chuck's chest and loosens his grip on those bony wrists, suddenly uncertain. He can't tell if Chuck is struggling harder because he's annoyed and wants Rich to let go, or what, but Rich can't keep touching him when he's telling Rich not to.</p><p>Chuck stops struggling against Rich's loosened grip, looking startled. “Uh,” he says.</p><p>“You said to quit!” Rich says, glaring. “What, did you think I'd ignore it?”</p><p>“Um,” Chuck says, looking helplessly over at Mike.</p><p>“Chuckles,” Mike sighs, and drops down next to him. “He always does that,” he tells Rich with a rueful smile. “It used to freak me out, too, but he doesn't actually mean it, he's just embarrassed that he likes it. He'd say 'yellow' if he was serious."</p><p>Rich's eyebrows go up, although he probably shouldn't be that surprised--they were boyfriends, for fuck's sake, and it's Mike Chilton, of course he'd be on the wilder edge of sex. The only problem is--</p><p>"<em>Oh</em>," Chuck says, "oh my god," and gives a full-body squirm, hips twitching.</p><p>--That the notion comes as a surprise to Chuck, at the moment.</p><p>Mike gives Chuck a puzzled smile and then goes wide-eyed. "<em>Oh</em>," he says, and Rich has to bite back a snort of laughter, because as funny as Mike's chagrin is, he looks too dismayed to laugh at. "Shoot, buddy, I forgot you wouldn't know," he tells Chuck. "I'm sorry."</p><p>"Wow," Chuck says breathlessly, ignoring this, "we tried enough stuff that safewords were <em>standard?</em>"</p><p>Mike snorts, surprised. "I mean, yeah? If you were gonna wake me up with you already in me--"</p><p>"Oh my <em>god</em>," Chuck moans, hips snapping up into thin air.</p><p>"--Or I was gonna tie you up and ride you real slow until you forgot your own name…"</p><p>"Holy <em>ff</em>--crap," Chuck gasps, tugging at his wrists, and Rich firms his grip.</p><p>"...Y'know, we needed to be sure we were ready for any hitches. It was your idea," Mike adds with a grin. "You're pretty big on safety."</p><p>"God," Chuck mumbles, squirming again. "Can, um, maybe…?"</p><p>"You want more, baby boy?" Rich says, smirking. "I dunno, maybe you shouldn't get any more until you're clear if you want it or not."</p><p>"You think you can do stoplight colors?" Mike asks.</p><p>"Stoplight?" Chuck says, frowning.</p><p>Mike blinks and sighs. "Right. Uh, green for go, yellow for slow or don't do that, red for stop everything right now."</p><p>Chuck licks his lips and nods.</p><p>"Cool," Rich says, and goes for Chuck's chest again.</p><p>Chuck groans and huffs at him, making bitchy little noises and squirming, but Rich notices that despite the muttered swearing, he doesn't say "stop" or "quit it" again. Rich appreciates it, because safewords or not, he doesn't want to ignore someone just telling him <em>stop</em>, even if he's supposed to.</p><p>Mike starts stroking Chuck's dick again, and by the time Chuck gets close this time, he's writhing and sweaty and barely coherent as he begs. Rich takes a hard breath and stares at Mike, because holy fuck, it turns out Rich is weak to Chuck pleading like that. Rich's dick has completely recovered and has definite opinions about said pleading, like for instance that Chuck should get what he's asking for and also Rich should fuck him.</p><p>"I might stop one last time before I let you come," Mike says to Chuck. "Color?"</p><p>Chuck looks dazedly puzzled and then cues in. "Nnh--green," he gasps, after only a brief hesitation.</p><p>"Nice," Mike says, and stops. Chuck whines miserably and goes slack, panting. Rich licks his lips, eyes going from Chuck's flushed cheeks to his open, gasping mouth, down to his slick, dark red dick. <em>God</em> Rich wants more of him than this.</p><p>"Hmm," Mike says. "Maybe you should help your buddy out, what do you think, Chuckles?"</p><p>"<em>Oh</em>," Chuck says as Rich stares at Mike in startled hope. "I, I could do that, yeah, if, um--" Chuck looks up uncertainly at Rich, upside down. "If he wants?"</p><p>"Man," Rich starts, "why the <em>fuck</em>--oh, crap, sorry--would I not want some help? No, you know what, never mind, you'll have some stupid reason like that you think you're not hot or something. I'll make it simple:<em> yes</em>, please do."</p><p>Chuck is too flustered to even manage to huff at him for the snark. Rich lets go of Chuck's wrists and Chuck scrambles up on his knees and turns around to practically lunge for Rich's dick.</p><p>"Whoa, watch it!" Rich says, unnerved, and then catches his breath and moans.</p><p>Chuck makes a snarky <em>so there</em> noise around the head of his dick, and Rich just gasps in response. God, Chuck may not <em>consciously</em> remember the last three years, but he's definitely gotten better at this than Rich remembers. Patting a little frantically at the soft gold fuzz of Chuck's hair, Rich hangs on and makes little shuddery noises as Chuck sucks him off slow and unbearably good. He doesn't try to go all the way down, which is good, since Rich isn't sure that's physically possible, but keeps his mouth on the head while his hands work below, stroking and squeezing.</p><p>Mike was the guy who suggested this, but Rich is still nervous about encroaching, overstepping, pissing him off, and looks over a few times to check that this is still cool. Every time, Mike is watching Chuck, steady and intense, though he looks up to give Rich a quick smile the second time. So, okay, he's fine, Rich is still good.</p><p>Except that he's <em>dying</em>. Chuck isn't in any hurry to let Rich get there, and after a while of being coaxed closer and closer but never far enough, Rich is whimpering, biting his lip to keep from swearing, and blatantly begging.</p><p>"Chuck, c'mon, man, please? I <em>nnh</em> please, I need it, <em>please</em> just--lemme come!"</p><p>Chuck hums thoughtfully and lifts his head just enough to eye Rich without pulling off. He doesn't need to speak for Rich to know exactly what he's trying to get across.</p><p>"Okay, yeah," Rich gasps, "I'm happy to participate in edging as long as I'm not the one being edged, no argument, okay? Except you <em>loved</em> it, and also it was Mike's idea! So, <em>hahh</em>, take it up with him if you've got complaints, come <em>on</em>, <em>please?</em>"</p><p>Chuck makes a distinctly mocking noise, and for a moment Rich is sure he's gonna keep teasing until Rich loses his mind. Then suddenly Chuck's going way faster and harder, and that edge Rich has been yearning for is surging toward him. He's coming in minutes.</p><p>Chuck pulls off when Rich has shuddered through a couple of aftershocks, and Rich slumps there trying to catch his breath, little echoes of pleasure ricocheting through him.</p><p>He looks up when Chuck whimpers, and sees Mike jerking him off while kissing, slow and thorough judging by the unstrung noises Chuck is making. Distracted, Rich gets himself tucked away and watches the hungry, intent way Mike touches Chuck, watches Chuck get more and more desperate. They're completely wrapped up in each other, breathless and needy and amazed.</p><p>Chuck comes apart with a cry, and Rich's dick, even tired and done, twinges at how incredibly hot that is, but--it's not for Rich. It's for Mike, Chuck's slumped on him right now, dazedly nuzzling into his neck. Mike is crazy about Chuck and it's mutual, they were boyfriends, it was a lot more serious than the confused teenage feelings Rich had years ago for Chuck. Hell, Chuck was Mike's rebel teammate, they were a <em>lot</em> to each other.</p><p>It's a good thing Rich isn't trying to compete, because he'd have no chance.</p><p>He hoists himself to his feet and steps back. "I think you've got the hang of this, baby boy," he says with a smirk, and Chuck looks blearily up at him and huffs. "You guys have fun, I got some stuff to take care of."</p><p>Mike pulls his gaze away from Chuck long enough to study Rich's face and then nod to him even as Chuck frowns and opens his mouth, looking discontent.</p><p>"You can message me if you need more moral support," Rich says to cut him off, and gives them a jaunty wave before walking out the door.</p><p>He gets all the way back to his own cubicle before he realizes how fast he's walking, registers the hard hot clench in his chest and that his hands are knotted into fists. It's just--it's not <em>fair</em>.</p><p>It's not fair that Rich lost Chuck, that Mike <em>stole</em> him and got to be his boyfriend for years while Chuck didn't give Rich a second thought. It's not fair that Chuck doesn't even know what he could've had with Rich, he's forgotten it all, like leaving Rich behind a second time. The ache of it has Rich leaning against his cube wall, forehead and fists pressed against it in the struggle not to punch something. This hurts, and it sucks, and Rich hates it.</p><p>It takes some deep breathing before Rich can get past the storm of sullen, teenager-ish fury. Then he wishes he hadn't, because what it was disguising is even worse.</p><p>Breathing in hard, he whirls and strides right back out of his cube ten minutes after walking in. It doesn't matter where he goes or how fast he moves, though, he can't outrun everything clawing at his insides.</p><p>Chuck doesn't remember the stuff he got up to with Rich because he's <em>lost</em> <em>three years</em> of memory. Three years of his life may as well not have happened for him.</p><p>The most time lost before this by anyone Rich knows is when Travis and a few other guys spent most of a year on a project that turned out to be classified. They got the whole year wiped, but that was five years ago; Travis was Rich's age and he was the youngest one. Chuck is barely <em>nineteen</em>. Still figuring shit out, still learning how to even be himself, and now he's had a massive chunk of formative experience just <em>erased</em>.</p><p>He's lost all memory of his boyfriend, the life he must've built for himself down in Motorcity, he doesn't even remember being a cool badass rebel. He's left with ingrained habits and behaviors that he doesn't even know the context of anymore. Like back in Raoul's cubicle when Chuck was giving orders--where the fuck did all that come from? Chuck sure doesn't know!</p><p>Granted, he <em>was</em> a rebel, an enemy, so this might be understandable as a punishment, except it still doesn't line up. If Kane had ordered him killed or thrown in a detention cell, that would've made sense. This piecemeal, subtle destruction of his sense of self, though, that's fucking-<em>-sadism</em>.</p><p>…Which also shouldn't come as a surprise, considering what Kane's doing to Mike.</p><p>Rich swallows and tries again to stop thinking about it. A moment later he gets to Raoul's cubicle and taps politely on the doorframe. Raoul looks up, squints at him, and jerks his head in curt permission to enter, mouth tight. Then he goes back to staring at a screen with his arms crossed. It doesn't look much like the frantic typing Rich was expecting.</p><p>Rich steps in, the low sounds of the department around him cutting out as he gets inside Raoul's sound canceler. "So how's the transfer setup going?" Rich asks.</p><p>Raoul blows out a long breath, cheeks puffing out with it, then presses fingertips against his temples, rubbing. "We have a problem," he says tightly.</p><p>"Okay, what?" Rich says after waiting a moment for Raoul to expand on this. His stomach clenches uncertainly. Raoul can get worked up over minor details sometimes, but this looks serious.</p><p>Raoul shoves both hands into his hair to push it back from his face. "If Mike Chilton <em>happens</em> to escape the night he gets sent to the programming department, Kane's not gonna think it's some coincidence. We'd be putting the entire department in danger, he'll label half of us traitors and throw us in detention cells at <em>best</em>." He takes a harsh breath. "I can't do that."</p><p>"Shit," Rich says, a chill sweeping through him. "<em>Shit</em>. Was this a trap, did he set us up for this?"</p><p>"I'm not gonna rule it out," Raoul says. "Everyone thinks we're a hotbed of secret dissention in the first place; whether Kane's actively testing us or it's just a side benefit of his little game, we're on thin ice here."</p><p>"<em>Fuck</em>," Rich says, and paces a rapid, distracted circle in the tiny amount of floor space between Raoul's cot and chair and the doorway. "Okay, but, we can't just leave him here, it's <em>Mike Chilton</em>, Kane's fucking <em>torturing</em> him! We have to get him out!"</p><p>Raoul crosses his arms tightly over his chest, glaring at his screen. "If you come up with a plan that <em>doesn't</em> get us all locked up or executed, I'm open to hearing it."</p><p>"Okay," Rich says, hooking a hand over the back of his neck, and keeps pacing. "Okay, okay. We need a way to get him out of here that isn't gonna implicate us. So if we help, it can't be a way that's traceable."</p><p>"No," Raoul corrects. "He has to escape in a way that Kane can't even <em>imagine</em> is connected to us, or we'll go down for it anyway."</p><p>Rich glares at him. He'd like to accuse Raoul of being difficult, but Rich knows perfectly well he's right. It doesn't exactly help the problem-solving to have him pointing out worse and worse difficulties, though.</p><p>"Great," Rich snaps. "No problem. We'll just, fucking, call in a strike from Motorcity, since we're such well-connected rebel sympathizers! The gangs will just come <em>right</em> up here if we ask nicely, I bet, and Mike can escape in the confusion! There, I'm brilliant!" He flings up his hands in frustration and goes back to pacing.</p><p>"Holy shit," Raoul breathes.</p><p>Rich shoots him an exasperated look. He can't think that'd actually <em>work</em>. Even if some Motorcity gang would listen to a few random Deluxe techs, the collateral damage would be awful. Those people are vicious.</p><p>Raoul is staring at Rich, narrow face lit up. "That's <em>exactly</em> what we'll do!" he says. "We'll call the Burners to come get Chilton!"</p><p>Rich stares back as his heart speeds up. "How would we convince them we're serious and it's not a trap?"</p><p>"They've gotta know he's being kept in the Tower," Raoul says, waving an impatient hand, "and I've got people down there who'll vouch for me."</p><p>"Right," Rich says. His heart is racing now, thinking about the Burners sneaking into R&amp;D, ghosting through the programming department and carrying Mike off--</p><p>Leaving Chuck behind.</p><p>Rich's head snaps up. "Oh shit," he says, staring at Raoul. "Problem. Chuck was a--" even with the sound canceler, he glances over his shoulder to make sure Chuck isn't somehow in the corridor outside, "a Burner; Kane's gonna assume he's the one who called them in."</p><p>Raoul stares back. "That doesn't make any sense, he doesn't even <em>remember</em> them--fuck!" He hisses and combs distractedly at his mustache. "You're right. Kane's not gonna care about logic. Okay. So we need an evidence trail that they've been in the Tower systems, keeping an eye on Mike since he's been captured, and this is the best opportunity they've seen to grab him." He pauses, smooths his mustache down more thoughtfully. "To be fair, this is probably the lowest floor on the Tower he's been allowed so far, so it's actually not a bad chance, if they could get up here without all of Security on their asses."</p><p>"We'll have to work on that," Rich says with a grimace. "<em>My</em> question is, how the hell are you gonna get in touch with the Burners? You can't tell me they're one of your <em>contacts?</em>"</p><p>Raoul lifts his eyebrows at Rich. "Think carefully before you ask, kid. You really wanna know how this dissident stuff works?"</p><p>It's not the kind of information that's safe to have, and before tonight Rich wouldn't even have asked, preferring blissful ignorance. That was before he knew so viscerally what Kane was capable of.</p><p>"Well, I'm assuming you start by going, 'fuck KaneCo and fuck Kane'," Rich says, folding his arms, "but the next step is less obvious."</p><p>"You sure?" Raoul says quietly, and not in reference to the obviousness or lack. "You get into this stuff, most people don't last long. They get mad, get depressed, stop working or start fighting, get caught or flee. It's hard to keep working like normal and keep cover so you can help people change floors when they need to, coordinate material deliveries across floors and so on."</p><p>Rich opens his mouth, five different responses jockeying behind his teeth. "It's not like I'll be here much longer, anyway," is the one that makes it out, brash and rough-edged, and then he swallows.</p><p>"Oh yeah?" Raoul says, eyeing him. "Why's that?"</p><p>"I can't--I can't stay here," Rich gets out, "I can't just keep working when Kane--" he struggles to put the stuff he's been thinking into words. "Chuck doesn't even know who he <em>is</em> now, he <em>grew up</em> and then Kane <em>erased</em> it! And that's--I dunno if the shit he's doing to Mike is better or worse, but it's still fucking awful. So. I'm out, when Chuck's off sick leave I'm leaving too."</p><p>Raoul watches him for a moment, and Rich wonders if he's thinking <em>Sure you are. You'll change your mind before then</em>. As much as the possibility makes Rich twitch in embarrassed annoyance, he can't tell himself Raoul's out of line to think it, because part of Rich is wondering, too. Four months is a long time, and as sick and furious as he is over what's been done to Chuck, Rich isn't a hero like Mike. He can't be sure the impetus will still be strong enough by then to make him turn his life upside down. He wants to think he'll be brave and determined enough, but… he doesn't know.</p><p>Raoul doesn't say anything like that out loud, though, just nods. "You still gotta be careful the next few months. A vertical transfer won't do you much good from the inside of a detention cell."</p><p>"I know, I know, I'm not an idiot intern," Rich says, and Raoul rolls his eyes.</p><p>"Yeah, you're so mature and grown-up, I know, kid. Sit down and pay attention."</p><p>*</p><p>Raoul lets Rich watch as he does some of the preliminary hacking for the rescue attempt, but when he gets ready to call up his Motorcity contact, the first step to getting in touch with the Burners, he kicks Rich out. "You'll make her twitchy, and we don't have the time to waste convincing her you're cool," Raoul says distractedly, still typing. "Go do some work or get laid or sleep or something."</p><p>Rich sulks out of Raoul's cubicle and looks up and down the aisle, at a loss. He's not about to slink back to his cube to work or sleep, but what else is he supposed to do?</p><p>The thought of going back to Chuck's cube and hoping they'll let him in again is hotly embarrassing. He didn't think he was being <em>too</em> much of a dick when he left, but in hindsight, he definitely made it sound like he had better places to be. And it turns out that was lucky, because now Raoul will be able to get Mike rescued, but… that's no help with Rich's self-inflicted exile.</p><p>Shoving his hands in his pockets, he wanders down the aisle in the vague direction of his own cubicle. When he left Chuck's cube, he thought watching Chuck and Mike together for another minute would be more than he could take. Now it's clear he was being an idiot. Watching them can't possibly be worse than being shut out completely.</p><p>He stops by Anton's cube to snark at him a while, then moves on. God, he can't settle down, he keeps wondering what Mike and Chuck are up to.</p><p>Fuck it, Rich is still sweaty from the sex; he's gonna go get clean.</p><p>A long shower helps relax him, and then he goes wandering around again and Miguel catches him.</p><p>"Hey," Miguel says, jerking his head in an invitation, and Rich steps into his cube. Miguel flicks up a screen and the sound of the rest of the department cut off. "So, how'd it go?"</p><p>Rich stares at him, wondering why he's looking so intense and not smirking, and then realizes he's not asking about the sex. Flushing hot, Rich shrugs in a futile attempt to cover it up and says, "Fine. Raoul's working on getting Mike a way out, and Chuck and Mike are, uh, enjoying their reunion."</p><p>Miguel's eyebrows slide up and he gives Rich a once-over. "And you?"</p><p>"Me, what?" Rich says stubbornly, though it's pointless when he's already blushing.</p><p>"Did you enjoy it too? I'm assuming you were invited," Miguel goes on cheerfully, "since your hair is wet and I <em>know</em> you didn't have time to go work out, so you must've gotten all dirtied up some other way."</p><p>"Shut up," Rich grumbles. "It wasn't--I was barely involved, okay? Chuck didn't know what he was doing because fucking sick leave, and he was scared of screwing something up and hurting Mike."</p><p>"Ah," Miguel says, and his smirk tightens into something grimmer before he shakes it off. "So, <em>reunion</em>. You mean before, they were--?"</p><p>"Together, yeah."</p><p>Miguel shakes his head slowly. "What the <em>fuck</em>. Little baby Chuck was <em>Mike Chilton's Burner boyfriend</em>. That doesn't even compute."</p><p>"I know!" Rich says. "Except, you know, as a Burner, all that new muscle he's got and stuff, but still."</p><p>"Yeah, still," Miguel says. "What the fuck."</p><p>They stand there contemplating, and then Miguel gives a brisk shake of his head, pushing it all away, and looks up at Rich. "You up for a few rounds of Territory?"</p><p>"Yeah, sure," Rich sighs, and settles down to try not to get his ass kicked.</p><p>He mostly fails, winning one round in the next hour, and then Miguel takes pity and suggests Shot in the Dark instead, which Rich at least has a fair chance at. They play that for a while, and then Anton drops in and joins the game and it gets a lot more interesting.</p><p>It's the small hours of the morning, and Rich is trying to bluff Miguel into messing up the chain of deductions he's making, when a sudden shudder goes through the floor they're sitting on.</p><p>"What the fuck?" Miguel says, turning his cubicle's sound canceler off, and the air around them is suddenly filled with yelling and terrified shouts, and underneath, a deep throbbing growl like some kind of huge machine. It's joined by a second, and then a third, with a crash that makes the floor and walls shake.</p><p>Anton is on his feet, swearing high-pitched and shaky. Miguel has frozen, eyes showing whites around the edges. Rich's heart is slamming against his ribs so hard it feels like it's leaving bruises, and he has no idea if the Tower is under attack or if the Elites have lost it and are coming for them all or what, but he needs to know how bad it is. Standing, he steps over to one corner of the cubicle, puts his hands on the top of the corner walls, and hoists himself up. The thin walls shiver under his weight, but don't give way as he pushes himself up to kneel balanced on the corner, looking out across the department, over rows of cubicles.</p><p>It's weirdly chilly, a breeze blowing past him like someone turned the air vents on high, but that's because there's a <em>giant hole</em> in the glass wall on the far end of the department. The source of the rumbling growls is three colorful machines Rich recognizes with a shock as the Burners' cars, which somehow got up here level with the 40th floor and broke in through the glass, slamming aside several cubicles in their path and wreaking havoc. </p><p>"Oh <em>shit</em>," Rich says. He calls over his shoulder to Miguel and Anton, "It's the Burners! They came for Mike!" and then jumps down off the cubicle wall into the aisle and takes off for Chuck's cube.</p><p>He's only reached the end of the aisle when he comes to a skidding halt as a slim girl with a plasma boomerang in one hand rounds the corner in front of him. She freezes for a split second, then gives him a predatory grin, flicking long red hair over her shoulder, and Rich swallows hard. He wasn't prepared for a face to face encounter with Julie Kane tonight.</p><p>She barely comes up to his collarbone, but there's no sign she's aware that he's four times her size as she steps forward, and honestly he can't blame her for not noticing. Granted, he could pick her up with two fingers, but he'd never <em>try</em> it, because she's terrifying and clearly a Kane, with the steely determination in those dark eyes. She'd be intimidating enough <em>without</em> a weapon, and he's seen what she can do with that boomerang. He slowly and carefully raises his hands to head height, open and unthreatening.</p><p>"Hey there, big guy," she says, striding up to him as he edges over against a cubicle wall. Instead of passing him, though, she stops right in front of him, holding her boomerang in a casual way that's not <em>nearly</em> as unthreatening as Rich would prefer.</p><p>"You get to be my hostage!" she says brightly.</p><p>"What?" Rich yelps. "Why do you need a hostage?!"</p><p>She rolls her eyes. "Well, Security's gonna show up sooner or later! Turn around."</p><p>Rich isn't at all sure that Security will give a damn about his life when they have a chance at taking down the rebel Kane, whether or not Rich gets killed in the process, but he's clear arguing about it is a bad call right now. Cautiously, spine tingling with awareness of that softly humming plasma blade, he edges around to put his back to her.</p><p>"Good!" she says, and he might possibly yelp again in terror when that blade is shoved over his shoulder right by his ear. There's a tug on his other shoulder, and then a weight on his back, and something around his waist--</p><p>Ah. Okay. Julie Kane is riding him piggyback. That might be even weirder than Mike Chilton lending Rich his boyfriend, and more mind-bending than Chuck being said boyfriend and an ex-Burner. But why not! The weirdness tonight might as well continue.</p><p>"Now," Julie Kane says in his ear, arms looping around his neck with the boomerang held close under his jaw, "you're gonna take me to where Mike Chilton is, and then we're gonna get out of here and you can relax again! Doesn't that sound nice?"</p><p>"Don't hit me!" someone yelps a couple aisles over. "I'm not Security, I'm a fucking <em>tech</em>, are you <em>blind?"</em></p><p>"Texas, <em>chill</em>," says an unfamiliar voice from the same direction, sounding annoyed, and then there's an electric sort of <em>crack</em> that sounds like something vital and expensive just got destroyed.</p><p>Rich's heart is in his throat, which is coincidentally where he doesn't want that boomerang to be. "I can, yeah, I can take you, there," he says, panting. "Although, um, Mike might be kind of, busy? He, um, he's having a reunion with Chuck. So."</p><p>"<em>Nice</em>," Julie Kane says, half-laughing. "Well, <em>that</em> won't be a problem."</p><p>Rich isn't sure what she means, but before he can ask, a ridiculously buff guy in a black and red jumpsuit comes jogging around the corner and immediately whips into a fighting pose. "Hey, you found Security!" the guy says, and then blinks. "Whoa, hey, you never said you had a brother! Is he like, your evil twin? Hey Dutch, come look! There's an evil dude Julie!"</p><p>"Texas, no," Julie says, sounding annoyed. "We're not related."</p><p>"Are you gonna have a big climactic showdown now?" Texas says eagerly, smacking his fist into his palm. "Good twin against evil twin? Show him how badass you are!"</p><p>"We're not <em>twins</em>," Julie growls as Rich stares.</p><p>A tall guy with an afro steps around the corner and blinks at Rich and the small, deadly girl on his back. "Oh, dang! You're seriously not related?"</p><p>"I'm really not," Rich says in a strained voice. The boomerang is still right there, and he deeply wants its wielder to not get pissed off right now.</p><p>"We're not related at all, I've never seen him before!" Julie says.</p><p>"Wow," the tall guy says. "With the hair and his build and everything, it's just really--are you <em>sure?</em>"</p><p>"Yes!" Julie and Rich say at the same time.</p><p>The tall guy gives them a doubtful look.</p><p>"They're totally twins," Texas says in satisfaction.</p><p>"Don't you guys have some tech to be destroying?" Julie growls, and Texas goes jogging off again as the other guy nods and pops back out of sight. "Move," she says in Rich's ear, and he moves.</p><p>As he walks, he sees techs duck hastily away into their cubicles, anxious faces peering cautiously around doorways. Others are running around yelling, some in excitement, some in alarm. Rich completely sympathizes with both reactions: this is awesome, the Burners are <em>right here</em>, in the department, on a rescue mission! And also destroying things, holy fuck! He winces every time there's another smashing noise or electric <em>zap</em>.</p><p>"Is that all the cameras?" someone yells.</p><p>"No, there's one over here!" calls Ben's voice, and there's a <em>crunch</em>.</p><p>"Nice," Ben says, and Rich relaxes a little. At least some of the mayhem is being guided in a helpful direction.</p><p>When he reaches Chuck's aisle, Rich stops well before getting to his cubicle. "Let me go get Mike, okay?"</p><p>"No, I don't think so," Julie says. "Keep walking."</p><p>"Look, calling you in was my idea in the first place!" Rich says. "I'm on your side, like anyone else with a brain, I just don't think it's a good idea--"</p><p>"Mike and Chuck aren't gonna mind me seeing them naked, don't worry," Julie says, sounding amused.</p><p>Rich abruptly remembers what Mike implied about having had lots of threesomes before, and chokes. Threesomes with Julie Kane, apparently, holy shit. "Okay!" he manages. "Cool! That's, nice! Um. But that's not what I was saying!" He takes a breath, trying to scrape words together when he still has the damn boomerang at his throat, which has him all scattered. "You can't go in there right now, it's not safe for Chuck to see you. Just let me bring Mike out, and you guys can take him and go."</p><p>"No, we can't," Julie says. "Either tell me what the problem is or start walking, buddy, because we're taking Chuck too."</p><p>"You <em>can't!</em>" Rich says, grabs her wrist to pull the boomerang hand away from his neck, and peels her off his back as she swears and struggles.</p><p>"Let go!" she snarls when he sets her down, and he does, taking a step back from her with his hands up.</p><p>"It could kill him," Rich says, "you can't take him with you, even <em>seeing</em> you guys is dangerous--"</p><p>"Why?" Julie snaps. "You haven't explained anything!"</p><p>"Because it's complicated!" Rich says in frustration. "We're not supposed to talk about it, people get hurt!" He lowers his voice, hoping Clive is a safe distance away. "Chuck got redacted, okay?"</p><p>"I know, and?" she says impatiently.</p><p>He stares at her, bewildered that she's not getting it, and then stops. "How much did Raoul explain about it?"</p><p>"What's there to explain?" she says, waving her boomerang. "He said Chuck lost the last <em>three years</em> of his memory, he won't know us anymore. I know." Her lips are tight. "It doesn't matter, he's still our friend, we'll just let him get to know us again."</p><p>"Yeah, that's cool," Rich says, "just, after four months. Okay?" He's annoyed Raoul didn't remember to explain the rest, but then, the guy<em> has</em> had a lot to arrange in the last few hours, and remembering what stuff non-techies won't know takes some thought. Techies are the only people who deal with memory redactions on a regular basis, and it’s not like how it works are well-known beyond the guys in Medical and the R&amp;D department. Of course Julie doesn’t know the details, Chuck sure wouldn’t have wanted to talk about it once he got out of Deluxe.</p><p>"Why?" Julie demands before he can go on.</p><p>"Because right now Chuck is subject to brain burn," Rich explains to her suspicious look, as carefully and concisely as he can. "He'll take around four months to heal, and until then you can burn him way too easy. I'm pretty sure being around the Burners is gonna be like nine triggers at once, it's not safe for him."</p><p>"Neither is staying here!" Julie says. "I'm not leaving him behind, forget it! Kane is way more likely to kill him than this thing."</p><p>"You might think that, yeah!" Rich says, gesturing sharp and frustrated. "But I don't think you understand what I'm <em>talking</em> about, brain burn is agonizing, and--" he cuts off, realizing that she's staring past him. He glances back over one shoulder, realizes it might be a trick to get past him, and in the same second sees Nate standing nervously at the end of the aisle and Ben coming around the corner behind him.</p><p>"You're not taking Chuck," Ben says flatly, heading towards Rich and Julie. "We can figure out how to get him out of here later, when he's all healed up, but he's not going anywhere right now unless you want a burned out zombie on your hands."</p><p>Rich looks back to Julie, who's staring at Ben, jaw clenched. “A zombie?” she says, and Rich thinks she’s unnerved now, even if she mostly looks angry.</p><p>“Yeah,” Rich agrees, “even if he doesn’t get stuck in a memory loop and give himself a heart attack, getting burned long and hard enough can have permanent effects. You don’t want that any more than we do, right?”</p><p>“I don’t, no,” Julie says, frowning at him. “But four months is a long time.”</p><p>“Uh, yeah, that’s how long it takes to heal your <em>brain</em>,” Ben says, stepping up next to Rich and folding his arms.</p><p>“And we’re gonna look after him,” Rich adds. “I mean, we know how to deal with the aftermath of this stuff. He’s gonna be fine, I promise.”</p><p>Julie narrows her eyes at him. “And how were you planning to protect him from Kane?” she asks, lifting dubious eyebrows.</p><p>“He’s been here for almost a month,” Rich says in exasperation, “and Kane has completely ignored him, okay? He’s not in danger, Kane doesn’t care about him.”</p><p>Julie’s gaze flicks between Rich and Ben, calculating, and it’s a long moment before she nods. “All right,” she says. “Go ahead and bring Mike out.”</p><p>Rich nods back, breathing out, and heads down the aisle to Chuck's cubicle. He pokes his head in, and the noise and raised voices from the rest of the department cut out, so the noise canceler is still on--and Mike and Chuck are asleep, all snuggled together under a blanket. Rich's heart does an uncomfortable twisty throbbing thing at the sweetness of the image they make. He had guessed they might be napping, because the only reason Mike Chilton wouldn't be out investigating the disturbance was if he was unconscious, but seeing it is different. Asleep in each other's arms, he and Chuck both look so peaceful and vulnerable it hurts.</p><p>Rich licks his lips and steps over to crouch down and shake Chuck's shoulder. "Hey, Chuck. C'mon, this is important."</p><p>"<em>Mngh</em>," Chuck complains, and pulls the blanket up over his head, uncovering his feet.</p><p>"What, what's up?" Mike says hoarsely, then squints up at Rich and practically levitates onto his feet, lips twisted in a snarl, before he takes a second look and sheepishly relaxes again.</p><p>"Muh! Wha?" Chuck says, floundering back out from under the blanket. "Mikey?"</p><p>"Time to get dressed and ready to go," Rich tells Mike, stolidly ignoring his hurt at the guy’s reaction. He should've expected it, especially just waking up. "Your <em>people</em> are here for you," he adds, with a significant glance at Chuck.</p><p>“My--really?” Mike says, back snapping straight as his eyes widen. “The Bu--my, friends are <em>here?</em>” Then he looks down at Chuck, and his own naked self, and dives for his clothing.</p><p>"Ngh," Chuck says, levering himself up to sit and fumbling around for his own clothes.</p><p>"No!" Rich says sharply. "Not you, Chuck, you gotta stay in here. And keep the sound canceler on."</p><p>“What?!” Chuck says, staring at him, and the sleepy confusion quickly gives way to frustration. “Rich, I'm not gonna stay in my cube when Mike is <em>leaving! </em>I might never see him again, so if you think I'm not gonna see him off you can go fuck yourself!" He stands up and starts getting dressed.</p><p>Rich is an idiot; he forgot Chuck doesn't know the separation’s only for the four months until he heals. Rich scrambles for a useful argument.</p><p>"Of course you'll see him again," he tries, "he's gonna come back and visit, you're his <em>boyfriend!</em>"</p><p>That gets him a searingly scornful look as Chuck picks his shirt up. "Oh yeah, twice a week, right? Because that's a great idea when Kane has a nasty grudge against him, that can't possibly go wrong!" He yanks the shirt over his head, glaring at Rich, and Rich's stomach twists.</p><p>"Hey, like Kane could stop me?" Mike says hastily, stepping between them. "C'mon, Chuckles, we just don't want you getting hurt."</p><p>"So tell your friends not to say anything dumb!" Chuck says impatiently. "And Kane's not gonna stop you because <em>I</em> will! You're not coming up here to visit me, Mikey--I'd lose it if you got caught again because of me." He steps in close to Mike, leans in hesitantly, and Mike kisses him, hands grabbing tight to Chuck's shoulders.</p><p>Rich turns away, aching, and steps out of the cubicle and into another standoff. </p><p>"You're not going in there," Ben growls, and the Burner in the jumpsuit--Texas?--does some kind of pose at him and the other techs standing between the three Burners and Chuck's cubicle.</p><p>"Chyeah, like you guys could do anything about it!"</p><p>"If Mike's in there," the tall Burner, Dutch, says, "why isn't he coming out already?"</p><p>"Because he's saying goodbye to Chuck," Rich says, hoping it's true, and Nate and Jason jump and glance back over their shoulders at him, looking relieved. Ben doesn't look back, but Rich thinks some of the tension eases out of his shoulders.</p><p>"Oh hey," says Texas, "it's evil boy-Julie!"</p><p>"It's <em>'Rich'</em>," Rich says in annoyance at the same time Julie says "He's <em>not</em> my twin!"</p><p>Nate turns and blinks at Rich, and Rich gives him a warning look. He should've known better, because that makes Nate's stressed look give way to the edge of a wicked smirk.</p><p>"Huh! I can see it," he says.</p><p>Ben snorts.</p><p>"Yeah, see?" Texas says, crossing his arms in satisfaction. "Totally twins."</p><p>"I'm not a Kane!" Rich says, throwing his hands in the air. "I'm a freaking Merrill, we're not related!"</p><p>"Hey, guys," says a voice behind him, and Rich jerks around. "Did I miss something?" Mike says, grinning at him and the Burners as Chuck steps out behind Mike.</p><p>"Mike!" Julie and Dutch say, and Rich looks back to see their wide eyes flicker up and down, taking Mike in: barefoot, bruised, short-haired and wearing a tiny PRT uniform. Julie keeps smiling, her expression unchanged except something shuttering behind her eyes, but Dutch goes pinched and horrified and can't quite seem to recover.</p><p>Texas is the only one who doesn't seem to notice or care what Mike looks like. "Hey, Tiny!" he cheers, chopping at the air.</p><p>"Hey, Tex," Mike says, and the tightness around his eyes relaxes some as he smiles.</p><p>"And Skinny!" Texas says to Chuck in a tone that's only a little less enthusiastic, and Ben makes a sharp noise, tensing like he's about to lunge for Texas, but before Texas can get out more than "How's your--" Dutch is clapping a hand over his mouth.</p><p>"Uh. Hi?" Chuck says, lifting one hand in a hesitant wave. "I...guess we've met."</p><p>Rich catches Mike's eyes and gives him a quick headshake as he opens his mouth. Mike shuts it promptly.</p><p>"Texas, we <em>just talked</em> about this!" Dutch says in an undertone. "Just--stay quiet until we leave, okay? Or you'll hurt him."</p><p>Texas grumbles something behind his hand, but Dutch must recognize it as agreement, because he lets go and smiles at Chuck, looking pained.</p><p>"Sorry," he says. "We'll try to keep quiet."</p><p>"Thanks," Chuck says, cheeks going pink, and hunches his shoulders shyly.</p><p>Rich blinks and looks at Dutch again. The guy <em>is</em> hot, actually, and also he's a smart competent rebel fighter, and yeah, Rich gets why Chuck is blushing.</p><p>"So, cowboy," Julie says to Mike, "you ready to get out of here?" Her eyes flick over to Chuck and Rich shifts uneasily. Ben is glaring at Chuck, who's pointedly not looking at him.</p><p>"Yeah," Mike says, squaring his shoulders. "I'm ready. Just me," he adds as Julie glances at Chuck again, "not--anyone else."</p><p>Rich goes still, clamping down on the urge to shove Chuck back into his safe soundproofed cube, because that would only focus Chuck on what Mike just said. Right now there's still a chance he'll shrug it off, shrinking every second as Dutch and Texas also glance at Chuck and away--</p><p>"Right! You're who we came for," Julie says, almost cheerful enough to carry it off, and Dutch fixes his eyes firmly on Mike, but Texas keeps looking back at Chuck with a blatantly confused and disgruntled look, and it's not like Chuck would <em>miss</em> that. He stares at Texas, and then wide-eyed at Mike as Mike turns and sees Chuck's face and goes still in the middle of reaching for a hug.</p><p>Chuck drops to his knees, clutching his head and making a thin keening noise that's almost drowned out by the yelling, swearing techs. Mike grabs at Chuck, but Rich shoulders Mike out of the way, scoops Chuck into his arms and dives back into Chuck's cubicle. The angry, alarmed voices cut out, and Rich sets the tight-curled ball of Chuck carefully down on his sleeping pad.</p><p>"Primes over a hundred," Rich prompts, stroking the golden fuzz of Chuck's hair. It's hard to distract yourself from the knowledge that's burning you, but techs learn fast to focus on something else so they don't keep revisiting the thought and getting burned. At least, a lot of them learn. Those who don't… you can hurt yourself a lot in the months before your brain heals. Better to be a cog in the machine of KaneCo's factories than stay in a job that'll turn you into a vegetable.</p><p>"One hundred one," Chuck mutters, strained and gasping, "one hundred three, one hundred seven…"</p><p>"--So sorry, I'm really, really sorry," Mike says, plunging into the cubicle, and Rich glares at him with a <em>shut up!</em> gesture. Chuck isn't listening, and he’s starting to lose the harsh edge to his breathing now, so Rich pats his shoulder and gets up, stepping over to Mike.</p><p>"You apologize and he’ll remember what you're apologizing for again," he says under his breath, "and he's gotta stop thinking about it."</p><p>Mike nods vigorously.</p><p>"Fuck," Chuck mumbles after a few more minutes of primes, and Rich <em>sees</em> Mike bite back the apology and snorts.</p><p>"Go kiss him," Rich says, with a gentle shove to Mike's shoulder, and Mike perks right up and does. Chuck pushes into it, and then he sits up and hugs Mike tight.</p><p>"I guess I should stay in here," he says reluctantly.</p><p>"Yeah," Mike says. "I'm just not--we don't know this stuff, how to be… safe for you. I'm <em>really</em> sorry, dude, I know you didn't want to be stuck in here--"</p><p>"It's not your fault," Chuck sighs. "We all forget how complicated dealing with brain burn is for anyone who doesn't know about it, I guess." He pulls Mike into another hug. "Take care of yourself, okay?" he mumbles in his rebel boyfriend's ear. "Don't do anything stupid, I want to see you again someday."</p><p>"I will, I'll take care," Mike says, holding on hard. "And you will, I'll see you again--"</p><p>"Mike, we gotta go!" Julie says, darting into the cube. "Security's trying to break down the doors--Dutch sealed them but they're not gonna hold for long!"</p><p>"Crap!" Mike says, and dives out the door with Julie and Rich on his heels. Outside the silenced cubicle the muffled noise of whining lasers and pounding and guns is alarming, and Rich hopes desperately that Security doesn't bust in shooting, or a lot of techs are getting hurt worse than usual.</p><p>"We'll leave with a bang so they know we're gone," Julie says, pats Rich on the arm and dashes past the other techs to vanish around the corner.</p><p>"Tiny, you're with me!" Texas yells from the other end of the aisle. "This way, we're gonna blow this place open!"</p><p>"Not like that," Mike reassures Rich’s alarmed look, and then grabs the front of Rich's shirt, tugs him down a few inches, and kisses him, tongue sliding boldly between his lips. It's fast and hot and Mike is pulling back grinning at him a second later, as Rich is starting to blush.</p><p>"You were cool," Mike says, "thanks," and he goes loping down the aisle after Texas.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Rich stares after Mike, heat spreading from his face and ears down his neck to his chest. He just got kissed by Mike Chilton. He's gonna be revisiting this moment during personal time for the next decade.</p>
<p>"Holy <em>shit</em>," Nate says behind him, and Rich turns, slow with dread. Right, yes, Mike kissed him in front of a bunch of techs.</p>
<p>Ben looks amused, Jason looks completely flabbergasted, and Nate's astonished grin is just as obnoxious as expected. Paul gives Rich an amazed thumbs up.</p>
<p>"You were <em>cool</em>, huh?" Nate says. "I dunno, man, how cool do you have to be to win smooches from Mike Chilton?"</p>
<p>"Apparently cooler than you," Rich manages, and then the rumble of the cars spikes and roars and everyone flinches as the red and black car goes tearing along the far wall past the aisle they're standing in. It grumbles and roars and then the floor shakes underfoot as there's an ear-splitting crash, and the car noise drops away fast.</p>
<p>"Went through another wall," Ben observes, and Rich is running for the end of the aisle, because he doesn't know how they got in to start with, but this is the 40th floor, their cars can’t be made to withstand that long a drop.</p>
<p>He reaches the massive, jagged hole in the glass wall and peers out from a careful step back, wind whipping through his hair and clothes. The skinny purple and white car is sitting sedately on a pod that's dropping fast, Rich can't see the yellow and black one, and the red and black one is--sure, why not! It's driving off the top of one pod and dropping to a lower one, like an extra big staircase made of people's houses. Oh, there's the yellow and black car, riding another pod down.</p>
<p>They must have hacked the pod traffic control system, Rich realizes, letting out a breath of relief. Then he jumps at a crash from the front of the department, and there’s the heavy thudding of Security boots stampeding in. A crowd of Elites charges into the department, spots the hole in the wall and the Burners’ cars in the distance, and piles through the next unbroken wall into a military transport pod to give chase. At least they don't shoot anybody before clearing out.</p>
<p>They leave one irritable Elite behind to question the techs, which entails him doing a lot of shouting and shoving and getting up in techie's faces. Rich ends up lingering pointedly nearby the whole time so he can push off the wall and loom anytime the Elite looks ready to hurt someone, and fortunately this isn't one of the souped-up hyper-aggressive troops, so he's nervous enough of Rich to back down.</p>
<p>It's still nerve-wracking, but hey, that's everyday life for a KaneCo tech.</p>
<p>To Rich's relief, the Elite doesn't do a full canvas of the department, and leaves Chuck alone. There's no way he wouldn't have burned Chuck just out of ignorance if the Elite had said a full sentence to him about this.</p>
<p>Finally he's satisfied enough to leave, and Rich can breathe again. The department is a wreck, two glass walls have giant holes in them, and everyone is shaken and overstimulated and exhausted, but they all came through all right. They got Mike safely to the Burners, who all got away according to the feeds Raoul has quietly been monitoring.</p>
<p>The holes in the walls make it windy and chilly, though, especially in these small hours of the morning. Working like this until the walls get fixed isn't going to be fun.</p>
<p>"Oh, don't worry about that," Raoul says, spinning back and forth in his office chair. He grins out into the aisle where Rich has been talking with Anton. "Ben says Chilton's buddies put a big hole in the base system panel. Half our systems are shorted out, and it'll probably take about a week to fix. Happy vacation, boys!"</p>
<p>"Holy shit," Rich says as Anton cheers. "What are we even gonna <em>do</em> with all that free time?"</p>
<p>"Well <em>some</em> of us are gonna go hoverboarding," Nate says from behind him, and Rich turns to see him smirking at Rich. "But some of us will probably pretend we're going to work out, and secretly hole up in our pods to think a lot about how <em>sexy</em> Mike Chilton is, and--"</p>
<p>"Shut up," Rich groans.</p>
<p>"--How great it'd be to get more than a little kiss from him--"</p>
<p>"Wait a second, what?" Anton says, giving Rich a startled look.</p>
<p>Raoul is snickering in his cubicle, and Rich glares at him.</p>
<p>"Oh, didn't you hear?" Nate says gleefully. "Before Chilton took off, he kissed our Ultra-Golem here!"</p>
<p>"He did a lot more than that," Raoul drawls. "You're behind on the news, Chau. Our boy got in on a threesome with Mr Chilton."</p>
<p>"I didn't touch him!" Rich says, glaring impartially at all three of them, although only Anton looks like he remembers why Rich might've needed to be careful about that. "I was <em>consulting</em>. Chuck was nervous because, y'know, he didn't know they'd been boyfriends, and--"</p>
<p>"Yeah, yeah, but the <em>point</em> is," Nate says, blithely waving the rest away, "you saw Mike Chilton naked."</p>
<p>"You lucky bastard," Anton sighs.</p>
<p>"Yeah, and I also got a plasma boomerang held to my throat by Julie Kane!" Rich says. "It's kind of been a busy night!"</p>
<p>Nate blinks. "Okay but, she was <em>tiny</em>. How did she even reach?"</p>
<p>"Forget <em>reach</em>," Raoul puts in, "what made her pick a guy whose arm is the size of her whole body to threaten?"</p>
<p>"I bet she could tell he's a pushover," Jason says with a grin, sticking his head out of the cubicle next to Raoul's. "An easy mark for a tiny girl."</p>
<p>"A <em>tiny girl?</em>" Rich says. "Excuse you, did you fucking <em>see</em> her? Small but <em>lethal</em>, like a gun's plasma pack!"</p>
<p>"I saw her," Nate says. "She was weirdly small."</p>
<p>"She was <em>not</em> weirdly--" Rich starts.</p>
<p>"You know," Anton says right over him, "I think when I heard 'Kane's daughter' I was picturing, you know, Kane. But with lipstick. And ground floor clothes."</p>
<p>There's a moment where they contemplate that image. Rich's mental eyes cross in the attempt.</p>
<p>Nate nods thoughtfully. "Checks out, yeah."</p>
<p>"Right," Rich says, shaking off the whole topic. "Anyway. I'm gonna go try to chill for ten minutes without the world exploding."</p>
<p>He manages half an hour, alone in his cubicle playing a soothing match-three game while the department slowly settles down around him. Then there's another commotion, and Rich is about to say fuck it and turn on his own sound canceller when he hears a familiar high-pitched voice, unstrung with nerves.</p>
<p>Rich is out of his cube the next second, headed for Chuck's. Chuck turns out to be in Ben's cube, and when Rich steps in, Ben is helping him through an incipient panic attack.</p>
<p>"Breathe in, out. In, out--slower, kid. In… out. Good, it's okay."</p>
<p>Chuck heaves in a deeper breath and lets it out slowly. "Okay, okay. He's not gonna kill me."</p>
<p>"No, he's not," Ben says, flicking an acknowledging glance at Rich's alarmed look. "He's probably just calling you in to yell at you some and scare you. You can handle that, you'll be fine."</p>
<p>"Move it," Raoul says behind Rich, and Rich jumps and steps further into the cubicle, out of his way. "You've got this," Raoul tells Chuck, putting a hand on his shoulder and squeezing. "Okay? Just be meek and scared and you'll come through okay."</p>
<p>"I--yeah," Chuck says, fidgeting, and then bursts out, "--but he fucked up Mike! He's been fucking <em>torturing</em> him, I <em>hate</em> him!"</p>
<p>Raoul grabs both Chuck's shoulders. "You cannot <em>think</em> about that shit," he says. "We need you to come back from this, Chuck, and if you piss off the man up top, you'll land in a detention cell and we'll never see you again."</p>
<p>"And neither will Mike," Rich adds. "And I <em>promised</em> him we'd take care of you until he could see you again! Don't get me in Mike Chilton's bad books, come on."</p>
<p>Chuck snorts at him, which is something, anyway, but before Chuck can answer, there's an Elite in the aisle outside calling, "Technician 13865, Mister Kane wants to see you."</p>
<p>“Okay!” Chuck says, high-pitched again, and sucks in a breath, lets it out slow. “See you guys on the other side.”</p>
<p>“We’ll be here,” Raoul says, and Chuck turns and steps out of the cubicle.</p>
<p>“Here I am, sir,” Chuck says, and Rich listens to the heavy tread of boots leaving the department with Chuck in tow.</p>
<p>“Okay,” Raoul murmurs, when the department door closes behind them, and he raises a screen, types a bit, and--that’s Chuck. That’s Chuck’s face up close, from the side and a little below like the camera’s on his shoulder, and the Elite in front of him.</p>
<p>“Oh my god,” Rich says, “did you <em>bug</em> him?”</p>
<p>“Obviously,” Raoul says without looking away from the screen. Ben steps up to his shoulder to watch too, crossing his arms. “Kane calling him in now is really fucking bad news, Rich. If nothing happens, hey, no harm done, and if it’s bad, we have warning about <em>how</em> bad before he comes back.”</p>
<p>Rich clenches his jaw on nerves and annoyance and doesn’t say that he <em>knows</em> it’s bad, okay, he’s not an idiot. He watches as Chuck follows the Elite up the Tower to Kane’s office at the top, and then the Elite salutes and leaves Chuck alone with Kane.</p>
<p>Kane beckons Chuck across the vast expanse of office floor, then leans forward on his big executive desk. There’s a blank screen up next to him, recording and transmitting. Kane is smiling, but his eyes are narrow.</p>
<p>“So, Technician,” he says, “would you care to explain why even though you had your memory wiped--”</p>
<p>Chuck groans and the picture jerks as his hands go to his head and he hunches over, Kane sliding up offscreen. Ben is swearing softly under his breath, and Raoul has one fist pressed to his mouth. Rich chews on his lip, hands clenched on the opposite forearms across his chest.</p>
<p>After a moment of gasping, Chuck pulls himself together and straightens, and Kane comes back into view.</p>
<p>“Even though you shouldn’t have been able to communicate with Chilton’s gang,” Kane picks up, “it seems that you <em>did</em>, because they invaded <em>my city</em> to take Chilton back to their little hole.”</p>
<p>Chuck is shaking his head frantically, and Rich’s stomach is a ball of ice. “I didn’t!” Chuck squeaks. “Sir, please, I didn’t even know he <em>had</em> a gang! I didn’t call them, they just showed up!”</p>
<p>“You expect me to believe that they just <em>knew?</em>” Kane sneered. “It was <em>coincidence</em> that the Burners--”</p>
<p>Rich can’t hear the rest of what he says, because Chuck has hit the floor and is making an awful thin keen, shaking all over. The floor and the front of Kane’s desk and a sliver of Chuck’s agonized face past his hand are the only things on the screen, Kane isn’t in view anymore, and it has Rich chanting in his head <em>get up, get up Chuck, get up</em>, just so he won’t be so utterly vulnerable. That’d be a lie, though, Kane is proving exactly how vulnerable Chuck is from the memory wipe, and standing up won’t change that.</p>
<p>“Motherfucking bastard shitball,” Ben says conversationally, and raises a screen, and the rest of the department goes silent as he turns on his sound canceller. Raoul is pulling on his mustache in a way that can’t be comfortable.</p>
<p>Chuck goes quiet and limp on the floor suddenly, and Rich yelps. “Fuck! He’s not--he’s, is he...?”</p>
<p>“Passed out,” Ben says shortly. “Happens with the really bad ones. Probably no permanent damage yet, though.”</p>
<p>“Yet,” Rich says. “<em>Fuck</em>.”</p>
<p>“Shh,” Raoul says abruptly, and Rich realizes there’s a new voice coming through, sharp and female and familiar.</p>
<p>“--You think we weren’t keeping an eye on Mike from down here? You think I was going to just let you <em>have </em>him? Of course I hacked your systems,” snaps Julie Kane from a comm screen over Chuck’s head somewhere. “I was <em>ready</em>, this was the best opportunity we were going to get! I didn’t need help from one of your techs--”</p>
<p>“But he’s not mine anymore, is he?” Kane rumbles. “He’s one of <em>yours</em>, and he tipped you off--”</p>
<p>“He did <em>not!</em>” Julie says.</p>
<p>“You little traitor, you think I don’t know what happens in my own Tower?” Kane snarls. “I found the trail, he did his best to cover it up but your old man <em>knows</em> a thing or two about code, Julie, and you and your treacherous little friend here had better remember that.”</p>
<p>“Oh shit,” Raoul whispers, “oh shit, oh god, I fucked up, I thought I hid it well enough, oh <em>fuck</em>--”</p>
<p>Chuck’s eyelids twitch and open, squinting like his head aches.</p>
<p>“But it <em>can’t</em> have been him,” Julie says, “he doesn’t even remember us!”</p>
<p>Chuck yelps and his hands wince up to his head again.</p>
<p>“I don’t care,” Kane says coldly. “Who knows which of those dissenting little rats it was, I’ll burn this one out and it’ll be a lesson for all of them.”</p>
<p>Ben’s fists are working at his sides. Raoul raises a comm screen with shaking hands and Ben whips around to grab both his wrists.</p>
<p>“Don’t you fucking dare,” he says tightly, and he’s right, the department needs Raoul, if he turned himself in to save Chuck it'd be a disaster for everyone in the department and Chuck would never forgive himself.</p>
<p>Rich turns and runs out of Ben’s cubicle and down the aisles to get back to his own, slaps the sound canceller on the second he’s through the door. Popping up a comm screen, Urgent Priority, he forces the call past Mr Kane’s assistant and straight to him.</p>
<p>“If this isn’t about a new weapon ready to deploy,” Kane snarls when he picks up, beard bristling, dark eyes wild with rage.</p>
<p>Rich tries to keep his voice steady as he says, “Nope! Fuck you, asshole, <em>I</em> called the gang up here to get Mike. I’ve been working with them for years--half the shit you thought was their hacker was <em>me</em>, up here the whole time. I’m sick of lying about it and pretending you’re worth anyone’s respect instead of being a disgusting, sadistic old shitbag who’s--”</p>
<p>He’d keep talking, but the little <em>Mic muted</em> sign has just popped up in one corner under Kane's shocked, enraged face. That's good, because it means he’s gotten to Kane enough the man wanted to shut him up, and bad, because if Rich isn’t babbling he has to think about what he’s just done, which sends utter terror crashing over him in waves.</p>
<p>“Well,” Kane says, silky and furious as he turns away from Rich’s screen. “How about that, we have a <em>confession</em>, my traitor girl. What do you think I should do with this one? Maybe I’ll send you the pieces when I’m done with him.”</p>
<p>“Dad, it wasn’t <em>him</em>,” Julie’s voice says stubbornly, “I didn’t need help!”</p>
<p>“<em>Don’t lie to me!</em>” Kane roars, a fist crashing down on his desk, and Rich can’t see Chuck but he thinks he hears a scared whimper. “I know evidence when I see it! They’re a nest of dissenters and delinquents, I <em>knew</em> one of them would be giving aid and comfort to the enemy from within the heart of Deluxe, and the code trail confirmed it!” He raises yet another screen and snaps, “Elite squad six to the Programming Department! Take Richard Merrill into custody--and he’s a difficult one, so use as much force as necessary. And send someone to get this Burner trash--” a choked scream from Chuck that almost drowns out Kane's voice as he finishes, “stuffed back in his cubicle.” Kane closes that screen and leans over his desk, watching, and he smiles when Chuck’s shuddery, half-conscious sounds of pain fall silent again.</p>
<p>Rich sucks in air, swallowing his heart back down, and reminds himself Chuck’s just passed out again. No permanent damage, probably. And he’s coming back to his cubicle, he’ll be fine, Rich saved him, even if Rich is apparently going to die horribly now--</p>
<p>“I hate you,” Julie says quietly, viciously, from off-screen. “I’m going to make you pay for what you did to Mike, and what you’re doing to Deluxe. I don’t know how I came out so well when you’re a monster.”</p>
<p>“But little traitor Julie, so are you,” Kane croons, and closes the comm screen to Rich without even looking at it.</p>
<p>Rich is abruptly alone in a silent cubicle, panting in fear and trying vainly not to think about what’s coming. He thinks to switch off his sound canceller so he’ll hear when they arrive, and then he freezes up, because <em>they’re coming</em>, Security is <em>coming for him</em>. </p>
<p>"You stupid little shit," Ben says, plunging through his door, "what the <em>fuck</em> were you thinking? Go, now, run already!"</p>
<p>"Like they wouldn't just catch me?" Rich protests, but he's already leaning toward the door.</p>
<p>"Take the east stairs,” Ben says, “they'll have put a stop on the elevators."</p>
<p>"I can hack that, the stairs all have cameras!" Rich says, thinking, <em>and we're on the 40th floor! You think I'm gonna run down forty flights of stairs before they figure it out?</em></p>
<p>"So do the elevators! <em>Whatever</em>, either one is better than standing here waiting!" Ben snarls, and he's right, it is, and Rich breaks and runs. He gets to the nearest elevator, smacks the doors closed, hits the button for the bottom floor, and bares his teeth when a cheerful screen pops up saying <em>Elevators are briefly out of service! Please use the stairs, and KaneCo wishes you a pleasant day.</em></p>
<p>Rich pops up his own screen and rips his way into the elevator control programming, overrides the stop on them and breathes out as the elevator starts moving. He keeps working, doing his best to cut this elevator off from the rest of the control system. That'll remove most of the safety measures, of course, but he's more concerned about keeping this thing going all the way down without it getting stopped again.</p>
<p>By the time he's almost done, he's ten floors down already, and starting to breathe again when the changes he's made start reversing, and doing it a lot faster than he changed them in the first place. He tries to stop it, block external access more thoroughly, and fails. He can't keep up, whoever's in the system is better than him, and a minute later the screen goes red and flashes <em>Access Denied</em> and Rich can't get past it. He keeps trying, teeth clenched and heart beating in his throat, and the elevator slows abruptly and stops somewhere between floor 24 and 23.</p>
<p>"Fuck," Rich hisses, and slams a fist into the wall of the elevator, denting it. He's trapped, held here at the pleasure of whoever blocked his access.</p>
<p>Fuck that. He closes the screen, steps forward and tries to get his fingertips wedged into the crack between the elevator doors. It takes some serious strength and bruised fingers, but he manages, and then pulls steady and hard, forcing the complaining doors open a hands width, two, and then slamming wide to show the white tiles of floor 24 at Rich's waist level.</p>
<p>He spares a thought for the risks if the elevator starts moving again before he's fully out, shoves the images of involuntary amputation away before they paralyze him, and scrambles out onto the tiles as fast as he can manage. Then he's running, headed for the nearest stairs.</p>
<p>He's halfway there when he hears the thunder of heavy boots behind him, and then more in front. A group of Elites comes around the corner in front of him, spreading out, guns aimed, and Rich's stride hitches and slows.</p>
<p>"Technician 15994, freeze!" an Elite snaps, and Rich dives through a doorway to his left and into an office full of workers who stare and scramble away from him like he's dangerous. Even in the midst of his own panic, it's frustrating to have people cringing away like that, like he might go through them if they get in his way. He's big and moving fast and he's got Elites chasing him, he gets it, but for fucks sake, <em>he's </em>not the danger here, he’s not gonna hurt anyone!</p>
<p>Rich plunges across the room, heading for what he hopes is the door out as boots pound through the doorway behind him.</p>
<p>"<em>Freeze!</em>" the Elite yells again, and they start shooting, office workers screaming and ducking for cover. Rich dives behind the nearest desk. He's got to keep moving, though, he can't let them pin him down like this--</p>
<p>He pokes his head up over the desk for the split second it takes to see where the Elites are, and ducks again as plasma bolts crackle against the desk and the floor around it. Sucking in a quick breath, Rich picks up the desk and throws it at the Elites, sending a cluster of them crashing backwards before he sprints for the door.</p>
<p>A single gun goes off once and again and Rich stumbles as something slams into his back. He hits the floor, muscles locked up and convulsing with electricity, and struggles to get up again, but he can't even breathe yet, his body won't obey. Heavy boots thump across the floor and then there are hands on him, wrestling his arms behind his back to snap cuffs around his wrists. Rich thinks if he could get a full breath he could throw his strength into trying to snap the cuffs, get loose before the Elites are ready for him, but instead a boot slams into his ribs, someone kicks him in the head, and then things get very unpleasant.</p>
<p>*</p>
<p>The detention cell is dark, just the faintest gleam of light from under the door. Rich's wrists are still held behind his back, and it turns out the cuffs are sturdy enough he can't break them.</p>
<p>Everything aches, from his kicked knee up to his split lip and the hot throb of his swelling eye. It's not like he's never run afoul of Security before, but they've never been so... motivated as they were this time. He should probably be grateful nothing's broken. Gratitude is proving tricky at the moment, though.</p>
<p>It'd be bearable if the pain kept him from thinking about what's going to happen to him, but he's not sure anything could be that distracting.</p>
<p>Except the memory of Chuck screaming before he crumpled to the floor, which isn't much better. Chuck making hoarse, choked noises, his thin, anguished keening and the way he clutched at his head. Rich’s brain keeps replaying the way that scream turned to a low, half-conscious whimper before going silent when Chuck passed out.</p>
<p>It’s Mike’s fault, Rich decides at one point, eyes squeezed shut like that can block out the images behind his eyes, erase the dark cell all around him. If it wasn’t for Mike Chilton, Chuck wouldn’t have been in trouble with Kane in the first place, and Rich wouldn’t have ended up here.</p>
<p>For a while he distracts himself wishing he'd never even heard of Mike, or that Kane hadn't sent him to the department, or that Rich hadn't helped get him out. Or that the guy hadn't looked so trapped and furious and beaten, hadn't been drugged and so messed up Rich had to feel sorry for him. Fuck Mike, everything would've been fine if he hadn't gotten caught in the first place.</p>
<p>And Rich wouldn't have seen Chuck ever again, but he would've preferred that to having to hear him scream like that. He keeps flashing back to the gloating look on Kane's face as he watched Chuck writhe on his office floor.</p>
<p><em>Fuck</em> Kane, god, Rich hopes his terrifying daughter obliterates him.</p>
<p>Although Rich probably won't be around by then. And there he is, back thinking about it.</p>
<p>Kane said "send you the pieces when I'm done with him," and Rich's thoughts keep circling around <em>pieces</em>. Actually physically taking him apart seems unlikely, he thinks feverishly, unless Kane has Security beat him to death, but what else did he mean? Is he going to torture Rich to get answers, break his mind and body? Or maybe redact him? How much of Rich is going to be left by the end, will he recognize Chuck anymore, or Ben, or his <em>dad?</em> Or is Kane just going to execute him, dump his body in Motorcity? </p>
<p>He catches himself hyperventilating for the fiftieth time and tries yet again to stop thinking about it, only to end up staring at the line of light under the door, panting. There's no one here to help him through a panic attack, he's got to keep a grip.</p>
<p>He doesn't manage very well, judging by the way he starts shaking when he finally hears boots striding quickly down the hall towards his cell. Something's off about the sound, but he doesn't have the attention to think about it, because the footsteps stop in front of his cell. Rich gasps for breath, drawn in tight and frozen on the floor, waiting for whatever awful thing happens next.</p>
<p>There’s a hiss and a stink of hot metal, and the door slides open, smoking faintly. Rich can’t see more than a silhouette against the glare of the light, but he recognizes the voice.</p>
<p>“Hey, dude, you ready to get out of here?” says Mike fucking Chilton, stepping into the cell. He’s carrying his staff casually, like it’s not the kind of actual spark tech you can’t find anymore, and as he turns and the light falls on him, Rich sees his jacket is black instead of the iconic orange-trimmed one, the shoulders covered with brightly colored patches.</p>
<p>Mike doesn’t stand like he’s beaten and angry and desperate, now. He’s grinning, moving light and bouncy and absolutely confident, with a fierce gleam in his eyes.</p>
<p>“I, <em>hhh</em>,” Rich says, and has to put his head down, gasping and swallowing and trying really fucking hard not to break down in desperate gratitude. He wasn’t expecting any rescue, hadn’t even considered it as a possibility. He’s nothing to the Burners, just some random tech, why would Mike come back up here for <em>him</em> bare hours after getting free in the first place?</p>
<p>Here he is, though. Saving Rich.</p>
<p>Rich is still helplessly angry, even though none of this <em>was</em> Mike’s fault, he knows that, it was Kane’s--but god he’s so fucking glad he’s not going to die here.</p>
<p>"You okay, buddy?" Mike says, coming closer. "Anything broken, or you think you can stand up?"</p>
<p>"I'm, I can, yeah," Rich manages, and wallows up onto his feet, clumsy without the use of his arms. He winces at the stab of pain from his knee and shifts his weight to the other leg, tries to pull his thoughts together. "How, how did you--did Raoul call you guys?"</p>
<p>"Nah," Mike says, ducking around behind him. "Pull your hands apart a sec--" There's a crackling noise and sharp blue light flickers at Rich's back, the scent of hot metal hits his nose again as his arms drop to his sides. "There!"</p>
<p>Rich sucks in a deep breath as his aching shoulders throb from the change in position. He lifts his arms and flexes a few times to get the blood going, hissing at the pain.</p>
<p>"Julie was on comm when you called Kane, dude," Mike says, "and we couldn't just leave you like this! They wouldn't let me come back up right away, had to let Jacob run a medscan and stuff, so sorry if we're late. Can you run?"</p>
<p>"Yeah," Rich says, breathless with shock and kind of sheepish, his misdirected anger beginning to fade. Mike’s only just escaped and he wanted to come back for Rich immediately when they barely know each other. Man, this will teach Rich to mentally downgrade Mike from <em>hero</em> to <em>traumatized victim</em>. As for running, he still hurts all over, but if it means not sticking around for whatever Kane had planned for him, Rich will run across all of Deluxe like this.</p>
<p>"Awesome, let's go!" Mike says, and dashes out of the cell with Rich plunging after him.</p>
<p>It wasn't even dawn yet when Rich was arrested, but it's full day now, a blindingly sunny morning visible through the glass wall. Rich was in that cell for a few hours at least, and he's not sure if he's surprised it was so long or so short.</p>
<p>His knee hurts, but it still works fine to run on when his adrenaline is up, which is fortunate, because making their way through the detention cell block takes a lot of running interspersed with fighting. Rich just does his best to keep up and stay out of Mike’s way and not scream when Security starts shooting, and Mike catches the plasma blasts on the spinning whirl of his staff and tears through squads of Elites with a ferocity that’s simultaneously hot and shocking. He doesn’t turn on his staff’s plasma blades, but--okay, the thing is Rich can’t deny at this point that he’s a fanboy, and in the last couple years he’s watched all the grainy Security footage of Mike he could get his hands on, sitting in his cube in the small hours of the morning. He <em>knows</em> how Mike fights, he’s pretty sure, and this is--different.</p>
<p>In the fights Rich has seen, Mike was grinning, spinning from one opponent to the next like the only guy who'd realized this was a game. He'd knock Elites down, trip them, topple them into each other, but he'd never use his blades or aim for a lethal hit.</p>
<p>He's still not trying to kill anyone, Rich is pretty sure, but he's grinning a lot less like this is a game and more like he's barely keeping himself from going for someone's throat, and there's a wild, brittle edge to him. He moves with the same springy grace as always, but he's definitely dealing out more damage than usual. Elites stagger dizzily back from his staff with cracked helmets or goggles, clutching at their noses or wrists or knees, fractures and breaks that put them on the floor.</p>
<p>Mike Chilton isn't playing anymore. Rich is always glad to have quit the Junior Cadets, but right now he's especially grateful he got out as fast as he did. If he'd stayed in he's sure he'd be one of these guys, and going up against Mike looks terrifying.</p>
<p>Granted, given the situation, Rich is still more scared of the Elites, but as he runs through the detention block in Mike’s wake, that’s less and less of an issue.</p>
<p>They get out into a broad corridor and Mike leaves the last Elite wheezing and coughing on the floor. Rich gives the guard a wide berth, jogging tiredly past him, and nearly trips over his own feet when the big lime green shape of Mike’s car abruptly appears ahead of them, a masking hologram shimmering away around it.</p>
<p>“There’s my girl!” Mike says, diving for the car door, and Rich only hesitates a second before going around to the other side--that’s how cars work, right, each person has their own side? </p>
<p>He gets in and situates himself as best he can in the cushy seat, and then he’s grabbing for purchase as the car starts up with a rumble.</p>
<p>“Might wanna buckle in!” Mike says with a much more friendly grin. “This could get rough.”</p>
<p>Rich fumbles at the various straps until he figures out where they all are and gets them attached in what might be the right configuration, and then the car goes caroming down the corridor and Rich clings and reminds himself Chuck and Mike do this all the time and they’re fine. </p>
<p>Still, “Are you supposed to drive these in buildings, or is that just a Burner thing?” he says, hoping his nerves aren’t audible.</p>
<p>Mike laughs. “I figured you wouldn’t be too upset if we wrecked the place on the way out,” he says, and Rich has to agree. Despite that, he’s waiting for Mike to turn the corner and wondering where there’s a door big enough to fit the car, and then he remembers they’re on the fifth floor, and <em>then</em> Mike drives straight through the glass wall.</p>
<p>Rich might possibly yelp and stop breathing.</p>
<p>The car falls for way too long, bounces when it hits the white Deluxe ground, and lands already going a respectable speed. Rich tries to swallow his heart down and breathe again, with limited success.</p>
<p>“Oh hey!” Mike says as a trio of Kanebots swings around and starts shooting at them. “I meant to ask before, but uh, what are the chances of us picking up Chuck while we’re up here?”</p>
<p>Rich gives him a look of utter disbelief. “None!" he snaps, voice shriller than he meant. "The same as last night, unless you want him really fucked up!"</p>
<p>Mike huffs, wincing, and Rich remembers belatedly about the swearing thing. "That's what Dutch said," Mike grumbles. "Fine, okay. Four months?"</p>
<p>"Four months," Rich says, and this time the strain in his voice is because Mike is jerking the car from side to side, avoiding the lines of plasma stitching across the ground where they would've been.</p>
<p>"Okay," Mike says, "I can--that's fine, we can wait that out. And he'll be fine, now."</p>
<p>"I hope so," Rich says miserably. He's had plenty long enough to dwell on Chuck shuddering on the floor and wonder how many times in a row you can get burned without permanent damage. He hopes Chuck is okay, that he's recovered by now and Ben and Raoul are looking after him, and that Kane will somehow forget he exists.</p>
<p>"No, he will," Mike says, shooting Rich a reassuring smile. "The Burners came to get you out, dude! Kane's gonna think you really were the guy helping us on the inside now. You did good, getting the heat off Chuck," he adds in a lower voice, and a muscle flexes in his jaw. "I think you saved his life, Kane was just gonna keep…"</p>
<p>He doesn't finish, and his expression has gone dark and set. Rich yelps as the car swerves wildly, dodging fire from guard turrets as well as the persistent Kanebots. They turn a corner and the red and black car is suddenly there, barreling straight at them, and Rich clutches at the straps holding him in and hears them creak with the strain. The red and black car shoots something in a blur of motion and the three Kanebots they've been dodging get hung up midair, tied together and shooting in random directions, and then the two cars are past each other.</p>
<p>"There you go, Tiny!" says a voice from a red comm screen popping up, and Mike manages something like a smile.</p>
<p>"Thanks, Tex!" A purple screen comes up and Mike says, "We're almost to the exit, Dutch, how you doing?"</p>
<p>"I think I took out about half his bot army, at least temporarily, keeping 'em off your tail!" comes the response. "I'll meet you guys there."</p>
<p>"Nice," Mike says, veering around another set of turrets.</p>
<p>"How's Julie's evil twin?" Dutch adds, and Mike lets out a startled snort of laughter.</p>
<p>"He kept up with me fine," he said, giving Rich a rueful grin, "so, little beat up but I think he's okay, yeah?"</p>
<p>Rich nods.</p>
<p>"Cool, good," Dutch says, and his screen winks out.</p>
<p>...The <em>exit</em>, right, because Rich has been saved by the Burners, which means they’re taking him down to the ground floor. Holy shit, he’s switching floors. He’s defecting to Motorcity, and yeah, he was planning on that, eventually, with Chuck maybe, but not <em>right now!</em></p>
<p>He doesn’t have a choice, though, it’s not like he can hide from Kane anywhere in Deluxe, even if Mike could stop and let him out without Rich getting shot immediately. He’s going to Motorcity, and he has no idea how he’s gonna do down there.</p>
<p>Mike does some more unnerving driving and Rich’s eyes wince closed on their own a couple times, but then they get out of range of the turrets, the red and black car close behind them, and a tunnel comes into view ahead. The skinny purple and white car abruptly tears in from the side and lets out a thundering blast of noise toward the tunnel entrance, setting off a series of explosions in front of it that makes Mike slam on the brakes.</p>
<p>Dutch's comm screen pops up. "I'll take point just in case there's more," he says, and his car pulls through the clearing smoke and into the tunnel, blasting more noise ahead of it.</p>
<p>"Thanks, buddy," Mike says, and follows.</p>
<p>To Rich's relief, the explosions stop a little way in. It's harder to tell how fast they're going in the darkness, turning and twisting and heading downward, and he starts to relax from the near-panic of the last fifteen minutes. Then another comm pings, making him jump, and it takes a second to realize it's <em>his</em> this time.</p>
<p>Heart beating in his throat, he checks the ID--like Kane would bother to comm him personally, but it might be Director Larsson snarling threats and insults--and is overwhelmingly relieved that it's <em>Chuck</em>, Chuck is okay enough to call him. Then he catches up. Chuck is on Rich's comm, with brain burn, while Rich is in a car on his way down to Motorcity.</p>
<p>He could refuse the call, but he needs to see Chuck's face right now, needs to <em>know</em> he's okay. Sighing, he sets it to audio-only from his end and picks up.</p>
<p>"Rich?" Chuck says hesitantly. His eyes are red, his face is all blotchy and it catches Rich by surprise, his chest clenching.</p>
<p>"Yeah, hey," he says a lot more gently than he meant to.</p>
<p>"What--is that Chuck?" Mike says, looking over in startlement. "Is that <em>safe?</em>"</p>
<p>"Not really, that's why I'm not doing video," Rich says.</p>
<p>"Mike?" Chuck says, brightening up. "You're with Mike! Are you okay, did they--how bad is it?"</p>
<p>"Nothing broken, I'm fine," Rich says. "And safe now, probably. How about you? That looked, um. Really bad."</p>
<p>"I'm <em>fine</em>," Chuck says, rolling his eyes, and his hand doesn’t shake when he waves it, and Rich breathes out. “Fucking Raoul, I still can’t believe he bugged me, god. I’m fine, seriously, Kane lost interest as soon as you--what were you <em>thinking</em>, dude, are you <em>crazy?!</em>”</p>
<p>“I was thinking I didn’t want to watch him burn you out,” Rich says tightly.</p>
<p>“So you decided to piss him off yourself, instead!” Chuck snaps. “Suicide by Kane, what a brilliant plan! What the fuck was I supposed to do after that, huh? ‘Rich got himself killed for me, that was nice of him! Well, guess I better hit my quota for this week!’”</p>
<p>“Look, I didn’t actually think he was gonna terminate me,” Rich huffs. “I just wanted to distract him from you, okay?”</p>
<p>“Well, it worked!” Chuck says shrilly. “Congratulations, fuck!”</p>
<p>Rich is opening his mouth to grumble at him when there’s movement at the edge of the screen and Ben’s voice says, “How’s your--what are you doing?” as Chuck jerks guiltily.</p>
<p>“Oh! Hi! Nothing!” he says with a nervous laugh, and Rich rolls his eyes. Given the silence except for their voices, Chuck’s got his sound canceller on precisely so he wouldn’t get caught doing this.</p>
<p>“Hey, Ben, it’s me,” Rich says, and Ben swears.</p>
<p>“You stupid little bastard,” Ben says, “we leave you alone for <em>ten minutes</em>--”</p>
<p>“I needed to know he was okay!” Chuck says, more fiercely than Rich expected.</p>
<p>“And I am, I’m just changing floors,” Rich puts in. “And <em>you’re </em>okay, or you will be if you don’t go fuc--freaking--calling up criminals when you’re on sick leave like a moron!”</p>
<p>Chuck makes a face at his screen, eyes focused a little to one side of Rich, since he can’t see him.</p>
<p>“Seriously, kid,” Ben says, “it’s not safe, he could run into something any minute that’ll set you off again, and you can’t afford that right now.”</p>
<p>Rich looks past the comm screen to realize that as dark as it is under Deluxe, he can see the twisting roads they’re streaking along clearly enough to note how high above the ground they are, and wishes he couldn’t.</p>
<p>“I know, I just--can I have a minute here?” Chuck says pointedly, looking off-screen where Ben must be.</p>
<p>Ben sighs at him, and Rich hears footsteps, and then silence. Chuck looks at his screen and away with a sigh.</p>
<p>“Take care of yourself, okay?” Chuck mumbles. “It’d be nice if, you know, I could call you sometimes and catch up, once I’m off sick leave.”</p>
<p>Rich freezes, because holy shit, he’s going to be down in Motorcity when Chuck gets there. He’s not going to lose Chuck to the ground floor and Mike--or, he doesn’t <em>have</em> to lose Chuck this time, he has a chance.</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Rich says, breathless. “Yeah, that’d be cool. We can do that.”</p>
<p>“Cool, okay,” Chuck says, nibbling on his smile. His ears are turning pink. Raising his voice, he says, “Hey, Mike? Take care of him, okay? Don’t let Murdercity eat him or anything.”</p>
<p>Mike snorts, grinning. “I won’t, dude. I promise, he’ll be fine, we’ll get him all set up down here.”</p>
<p>“Okay,” Chuck says. “And Rich, I’m not gonna tell you to take care of Mike, because you might be modded, but you’re not superhuman--but if you hear about him doing anything too crazy, call him up and do the bitchy big brother thing, okay? You’re good at that.”</p>
<p>“I’m probably supposed to be offended,” Rich comments, “but I’m just pleased you admit it’s effective.” He’s also surprised to realize he’s been doing that particular routine long enough that Chuck remembers it. It’s undoubtedly better than it used to be, he’s learned how to do more of a ‘disappointed in you’ tone than the snide note he used to do.</p>
<p>“Shut up, dick,” Chuck says.</p>
<p>“Can’t make me,” Rich says promptly, and reminds himself at the pang of loneliness that it’s only four more months. Chuck will be within reach again, this isn’t goodbye even if Chuck doesn’t know that.</p>
<p>“Ugh, you’re such a pain, Merrill,” Chuck says, rolling his eyes. “I should be glad you’re out of my hair.”</p>
<p>“Admit it, you miss me already,” Rich shoots back.</p>
<p>Chuck opens his mouth, and then instead of snarking correctly, huffs and mutters, “Kind of, yeah, jackass.” Then he winces, and Rich knows that look; he just thought about something he shouldn't, maybe the possibility of sneaking down to Motorcity himself for a visit or something.</p>
<p>“Get off my comm, you idiot, before you hurt yourself,” Rich orders. “Ben will kick your ass.”</p>
<p>“He’s almost as obnoxious as you are,” Chuck says, glaring to one side of Rich. “Be okay or I’ll--you’d just <em>better</em>, okay?”</p>
<p>“Okay,” Rich says. “You too.”</p>
<p>Chuck huffs at him one last time and closes the call, and the screen winks out. Rich stares out at the dark road, unseeing, then realizes how fast they're still going and swallows. They're closer to the ground now, but not close enough to feel anything like safe.</p>
<p>Mike blows out a long breath, smiling tiredly when Rich looks over. "I'm really glad he's okay."</p>
<p>"Yeah, me too," Rich says. A minute later he gives Mike a sideways look. “You realize that if I’m gonna be properly disapproving of you doing crazy shi--stuff for the next few months, you’ll have to keep me up to date. I mean, we’ve got orders from Chuck, we have to.”</p>
<p>“Should be easy enough for the next week, anyway,” Mike says, shrugging. “Since I figured you’ll be staying with us for a while. Y’know, until you figure things out down here.”</p>
<p>“Oh,” Rich says, blinking in shock. He stares at Mike, getting his head around that before letting out a long breath, tension easing out of his shoulders that's been there since he realized where he was escaping to. It's not that he thought Mike would drop him off on the side of the road and tell him good luck, but… Okay, actually that's exactly what he expected, because Mike is a fucking rebel hero who probably thinks being dropped in a strange, lawless city is exciting and fun, and Rich isn't used to anyone looking out for him who isn't a fellow techie.</p>
<p>A thought occurs and Rich's shoulders lock back up again. "Um. You know I can't, I don't know how to fight, right? And I'm not a bad programmer, but I'm nowhere near Chuck's level, I can't--" the car goes airborne for a moment that stretches out, and out, and Rich's sentence cuts off into a choked yelp. They land with a bounce and a skid that Mike effortlessly controls, and Rich focuses on not having a heart attack. Shit, he is so not cut out for this.</p>
<p>"It's okay, dude," Mike says, looking amused, "you told me you didn’t fight first thing, remember? I'm not dragging you into the gang unless you wanna be there. You can stay with us for a few days or weeks, whatever, and we'll show you around. Dutch can take you over to the Cablers, a lot of tech people settle over there, so you can see what you think of them, you can look around--you've got options."</p>
<p>"I like options," Rich says, breathless with relief and still rattled. "I, yeah, that sounds--thanks. Thank you. I really appreciate--"</p>
<p>"Dude," Mike says. "You <em>saved Chuck's life</em>. And before that you were trying to take care of him, keep him from getting hurt. We <em>owe</em> you, Rich. You don't have to thank me for any of this."</p>
<p>Rich opens his mouth and closes it again. "I didn't do it for you guys, you know," he mumbles.</p>
<p>Mike snorts. "Yeah, I know. You did it because he's your--your friend." He pauses. "You guys really like each other."</p>
<p>"I mean, not like that," Rich says, abruptly aware again that he's at Mike's mercy. Not that he thinks the guy will throw him out of the car for having a thing for Chuck, but he doesn't want to push it. "You don't have to worry, I'm not gonna--"</p>
<p>"I'm not worried," Mike interrupts, smiling crookedly. "Dude, before we got caught…" He pauses and takes a breath before saying steadily, "The Burners were--are together, okay? All five of us. And Dutch has a thing with Tennie, she's a Cabler, and I'm pretty sure Julie has a thing going with her best friend--anyway. It's not a problem if you and Chuck get together too." He grimaces, hands flexing on the steering wheel. "He probably knows you about as well as he knows me, right now, so."</p>
<p>Which is way less than it ought to be for both of them and sucks, yeah, but Rich is distracted. "You really think he'd be, uh." How does he say "up for more than just fuckbuddies" to Mike Chilton?</p>
<p>He doesn't have to, because Mike shoots him an exasperated look, grinning. "Seriously? Yeah, buddy, I'm pretty dang sure, geez. Did you miss how eager he was to get his mouth on you?"</p>
<p>Rich flushes hot. "He likes stuff in his mouth," he mutters.</p>
<p>"Uh-huh, and he obviously likes <em>you</em>, dude," Mike says. "<em>And</em> your--what was it? Big, redheaded thing?"</p>
<p>Rich makes a strangled noise and stares straight ahead out the windshield, which doesn't help when he can hear the grin in Mike's voice, and okay, Mike Chilton just referenced an injoke about Rich's dick. Rich is going to go ahead and die now. And he's going to hurry and do it before his dick can wake up.</p>
<p>God, his ears are on fire.</p>
<p>"Which is funny," Mike goes on blithely, "because usually <em>I'm</em> the one trying out crazy new rides.” He shoots Rich a sideways look and Rich’s head whips around to stare disbelievingly back. He can’t <em>possibly</em> be thinking about what Rich is thinking about. It’s got to be Rich’s imagination that he looks intrigued, right? Especially since Rich has that unfortunate resemblance to a certain sadistic CEO, and Mike has a whole Tower’s worth of new trauma to come to grips with. He can't possibly be… he wouldn't…</p>
<p>Holy shit he would. This guy drives his car out of windows and jumps off buildings; if he's actually into Rich's dick, he's not gonna hesitate before flinging himself on it, recent trauma or not.</p>
<p>Which is both incredibly hot, and a terrible idea. Like, <em>obviously</em> terrible. Only a guy who gets shot at and otherwise risks his life on a daily basis could think hopping in bed with someone who even superficially resembles the man who’s spent weeks torturing him is a reasonable idea. Rich would love it if it had any chance of going well, but it really, definitely doesn’t. Which means he needs to decide how he’s going to handle it if Mike does make some kind of move.</p>
<p>Unfortunately his brain shuts down in disbelief when he considers trying to <em>turn down Mike Chilton</em>, so it’s a good thing Mike doesn’t go beyond that one thoughtful look before looking back at the road.</p>
<p>“Anyway,” Mike says, “yeah, it’ll work out fine so long as you’re cool with sharing.”</p>
<p>“I--yeah,” Rich says hoarsely. He’s trying not to, but <em>sharing</em> makes him think about Chuck pinned, moaning, between him and Mike, or even worse, imagine Mike between Rich and Chuck, dark-eyed and wanting. It’s not helping at all with maintaining the lack of a boner right now, and he’s still hot all over when he coughs and manages, “Yeah, definitely, that’s, I’m cool. With that.”</p>
<p>“Cool,” Mike says in satisfaction, and takes them around a series of curves in the road that slant up so sharply the car would fall off if it was going any slower. As it is, Rich only wants to scream in terror a <em>little</em>.</p>
<p>Great, all right, that thoroughly took care of his incipient boner issue.</p>
<p>He’s probably reading Mike all wrong anyway. If the guy had any interest in Rich or his dick, he’d have made a move back when they were doing stuff in Chuck’s cubicle, wouldn’t he? Yeah. </p>
<p>That makes sense. Rich just doesn’t know him well enough, he’s not actually into Rich.</p>
<p>...And that kiss was probably just Mike being grateful.</p>
<p>Rich is still going to spend plenty of time thinking about it late at night, of course. He’s just going to firmly remind himself the rest of the time that it didn’t mean anything.</p>
<p>“Four months,” Mike murmurs to himself, quiet enough Rich wouldn’t have caught it over the growl of the engine if he wasn’t staring at the guy’s mouth. “We’ve got this.”</p>
<p>He hastily looks away as Mike sighs. “I’ll show you around the hideout when we get there,” Mike says at a normal volume. “Introduce you to Jacob, show you what’s good in the fridge.”</p>
<p>Holy shit, Rich is going to eat Motorcity food <em>all the time</em> now. This is going to be <em>amazing</em>.</p>
<p>And in a few months, Chuck will be here. He won’t remember Motorcity, but he’ll have Mike and their gang to help him figure everything out again, and he’ll have Rich. Maybe they can figure some things out together.</p>
<p>Rich looks at the darkness racing past his window, and maybe it doesn’t look safe, or familiar, but safety was always a lie in Deluxe, and the dangers being familiar didn’t make it any better. Motorcity won’t be safe either, he’s sure, but he’s got someone he can trust to show him how to do things down here, and a place to stay while he gets his feet under him. He’ll get the hang of ground floor life.</p>
<p>(And hey, maybe Mike will kiss him again sometime.)</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>If you enjoyed the fic, please leave me a comment letting me know! I have no idea if the last chapter/ending is good enough, so maybe tell me one or two moments or lines you liked, to raise the author's spirits. Blessings on you if you do. ^u^</p></blockquote></div></div>
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